Happiness is a warm gun

I love my job.

Really.

At the beginning, I doubt myself again and again. I felt like taking wrong decision, losing in translation. I felt like fighting for something that I don't understand.

What is the purpose of this battle?

People talking about anything. Anything that I never heard off. I laugh when they laugh, acting like I feel the same way.

My job is one hell of a job. Just like reinforcements, I need to backed up when things getting hot. To make things short, when something bad happens that's when I come in. Sometimes in the middle of the night, in the deepest sleep, the phone ringing.

At that point you know shit happens, the battle just began.

 Someone somewhere needs your help. And you don't even know what you're going to do.

 You can't call any backup, You're the backup.

Months of struggling. Struggle after struggle, lost after lost. You learning to lick your wound.  You beginning to realize that's something bad, was not so bad anymore. Shit happens, became things happens.

In the middle of  this battle, you starting to predict your enemy movement, you starting to read the core strategy. You know you're not strong enough yet to face the most ferocious enemy. But you understand the battlefield more. You know when and where you attempt an ambush. How high your line is.


And when wave of enemy come in to your direction.

You shoot them.

Bang !

Bang!

Again and again. You keep shooting.

Bang!

Bang!

Your last shot repelled the enemy. You feel that glorious feeling, boost your morality to the highest level.

You share your triumph with your companion.

And in the way back to your home, you held your gun close to your chest. The gun that saved your life. It's still warm.Warm enough to make you feel safe way back home.

You know the enemy will keep coming, will keep haunting your sleep.

But for now you want to throw away all worries. Deep down inside you feel happy.

Cause, happiness is a warm gun.