There Is A Difference Between Gold And Hoop Earings

Right. We, as a species, never take time to stop and consider the lilies of the god damn field. That is unless you are me and you do, because it's really the only thing that keeps sanity in the god damn field. Lilies. I'll be a mother fucker.
I am trying to go to SERE school volume two. Mostly because I want to. SERE sucked, but I am sure the advanced SERE school is better. I doubt I'll get a slot because I am planning on getting out of the Army, and I will do all I can to leave, so I will probably not get a slot.
I have like 11 months until things make sense again. I still don't have a job, so I need help. Unkind is apparently getting a bomb job. I haven't spoken with him about this job, but if I had to guess his new job will be a producer at a television station where naked big tittied women read sports scores all day and manufacture fire works and chocolate and he will make 500,000 a month. I know this because I am destined to be envious of his good fortunes.
I have a new job too. I am no longer a platoon leader. I am just some dude who does paper work and watches his life pass by. Now I would be fine with that, except I have a thing called a "personality." I also have these things called "ideas." The Army takes pleasure in dismembering these things I have.
I have a dream. It is a simple dream. Really, all I want to do with my life (since it is abundantly clear that my dream to win a lot of money and coach little league and build houses and churches and read and shit will never happen) is to get a handgun or a sword or something I can bludgeon with, a horse and some leather clothes and just sort of roam. Adventures. Fires. Cookouts. Stars. Quiet. Beard. Good times. Noodle salad. One word sentences.
I have another dream. It involves JESSICA BIEL, Kiera Knightly, Claire Danes and Kate Beckinsale. It's pretty much the same dream except completely different. But every once in a while it does involve a horse.
I have a third dream. This dream involves me standing on a hill looking over a field of golden grain swaying in the breeze. I close my eyes and look at the sky. The new spring sun turns the black into red though my eye lids and I smile like I haven't seen the sun in a thousand years. I open my eyes and look across a blue sky and back to the field. The field ignites in a raging blaze with little smoke. I then ride through it on a horse. I've had that dream since I was seven.
What's up with all the horses in my dreams?
Why does no one partake in my advice column anymore? That's bullshit. I ran the best advice column in the world. And none of you fucks want advice. I mean sure I'm about to not have a job in 11 months, but I can still fix yours. It's only mine I have a knack for fucking up. Yours I can fix in a heartbeat. But fuck you because you don't want my advice. So that's my advice I guess: Fuck You. (Not you. You are different. I like You. Really)