"You're in a place," Mary Anne said softly, "where you don't belong."
. . .
"You just don't know," she said. "You hide in this little fortress, behind wire and sandbags, and you don't know what it's all about. Sometimes I want to eat this place. Vietnam. I want to swallow the whole country — the dirt, the death — I just want to eat it and have it there inside me. That's how I feel. It's like ... this appetite. I get scared sometimes — lots of times — but it's not bad. You know? I feel close to myself. When I'm out there at night, I feel close to my own body, I can feel my blood moving, my skin and fingernails, everything, it's like I'm full of electricity and I'm glowing in the dark — I'm on fire almost — I'm burning away into nothing — but it doesn't matter because I know exactly who I am. You can't feel like that anywhere else."
Sweetheart of the Song Tra Bong,
The Things They Carried,
by Tim O'Brien
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