so I almost started crying in public today

Jesus would be proud.

I'm at the airport coming home from a wonderful Memorial Day Weekend with my boyfriend/partner/husband-if-we-could and the plane pulling into my gate unloads several, I'm assuming, current members of the Wars-Across-the-Globe campaigns.

And there were a lot of limbs missing. I counted at least 4.

And I almost started crying.

These kids were no older than 22. They were hot. And they were fucking duped. And now one will be on crutches or prosthetics for the rest of his life. And the other was being wheeled around with stumps for legs and a mannequin hand holding his boarding pass.

A bullshit yellow ribbon on my SUV means nothing. Waving a fucking flag at another fucking parade means nothing. And listening to the pill-popping ditto crowd doesn't make me feel any better. This isn't the freedom that I want. For me. For them. For this country.

Because, you know, 20 years from now, where will they be? How many of the homeless amputees in New York City are (or claim to be) veterans? How many of the mental health institutions did Reagan close? How much is the Bush Administration cutting veterans benefits while no one is looking? What are the facts? And does anyone care? And why am I called un-patriotic and un-American for asking these questions?

And this is why I almost started crying. I wanted to give those kids their cardboard signs, piss-stained blankets, their collection of medals and flag pins, and a map to the East Village.