I'm tired.

I'm tired of not being able to drive a single straight mile without some asshole hitting sixty up my ass-end. Or driving past a checkpoint. Fuck. Checkpoint? I don't get checked. I get shot at.
But honestly, this all pales to minor nitpicking when we address the fact that I have FUCKING MALARIA.
I'm not in this goddamn country five minutes when I more or less fall into a light coma. Of course it's during that moment my objective, the guy I haven't seen hide or tail of since, decides to pop up.
I've been betrayed, abandoned, used, shot at, run over, somewhat blown up, lit on fire, and driven off a goddamn bridge. I'm fucking done. This place can go to hell. Killing a gun smuggler isn't about to change decades of habit.
I'm going to train cops or some horseshit.






Been playing Far Cry 2