Nothing at all

Well, I'm in a pretty bad place at the moment. It's not everyday that someone tells you that they have a problem with your character, namely inflexibility. Apparently it's problematic for them that I want to give my best in everything I do, and they brand me as being inflexible when I'm unwilling to comply. Note that I don't attempt to force my standards upon them, I've long since given up on that. So I go about it myself, quietly; that's my compromise, and yet even that's not enough for them, it's pressurizing when I do things up to my own standards, when I'm simply doing what I think is right. That's the first time I've encountered such a thing in my whole freaking life, tbh, and I'm not very happy about it. I'm not someone with a very well-defined moral code or anything like that, but all along I've done things by doing what feels right to me, and it's very jarring to hear bout this kinda thing.

  And I'm growing increasingly frustrated everyday; it feels like nobody even hears what I have to say at all, especially when it's something they don't want to hear. It's fine for them to approach me for this or that, and I'm glad to help, but they really aren't willing to accord me the same respect when I do the same. I'm very tired and put off by all this, of consistently having to play along to others' tempo while constantly restraining myself, keeping myself from doing what I want to do.

I just find it so hard to smile, when I'm not allowed to be myself.

I realize that there are people who think differently from the way I do, and never thought that I had much difficulty getting along with such people. I always thought I was tolerant but apparently that's not going to be enough. I can do my best to accept and accommodate, but when they can't do the same, can't accept me for who I am, then there's nothing I can do.

I could be angry, or I could be sad, but currently I feel nothing at all. Just this quiet resignation. I always wanted to not let anything get me down, but I'm not big enough to resist when the weight of the world comes crushing in.

There's alot to be said about self-control, EQ and what not and what I realized this week is that I have to stop letting my mood govern the way I act and react to things. When I'm angry I don't exactly let my rational side get away from me, but what happens is that it becomes twisted, magnifying perceived faults and doing its darnnest best to justify my anger, causing things to spiral out of control into a self-righteous rage. And I'll more often than not say something I regret upon cooling down.

Something I've tried is a kind of self-imposed exile, keeping quiet/to myself when I recognize that I'm heading in that direction to avoid any possible escalation, but that's just avoiding the problem temporarily. I don't profess to have all the answers, but maybe that's what I'll have to work on in the coming weeks, months and years.

The time in the army has changed me significantly, that's for sure, and I still feel quite awkward with myself, sort of like growing into a new me. One thing I do know is that I don't really feel at ease where I am right now, with the people around me. It's those convos that I can't comfortably participate in, opinions that I express, yet feel like no one's listening, questions that I ask, only to be received with awkward silences, the times when they make playful jabs at my expense and yet when I try to "reciprocate" I get shot down instead. Maybe I don't have enough ego, that ability to do my own thing without overly caring about how others respond, and when I do try to compensate, I overcompensate instead, and it just ends up being weird. Maybe I think too much, I over-analyze, and this keeps me out of things. The jury's still out, but I know things can't carry on this way; I'm falling to pieces as it is.

And I realize that I have yet to find closure, what with the way things ended, though ironically there was arguably nothing to start with. I'm a wreck.

Holding Together

The sweet taste of freedom is something I managed to savor deeply this weekend. I miss the days when I had the time to stand around with friends, not quite sure what to do, standing in the middle of the pathway, standing in the rain, under the shelter of a tree, as we tried to hash out a course of action, inevitably going off-topic before once again meandering our way back on course. The time to take the long route, a stroll through the heart of the city, chatting, whining and in essence being completely random. The time to sit and watch a couple of "performers" in the spotlight at the Gardens, waiting for them to do something, which they never did. The freedom to not have a plan, activities slotted neatly back-to-back, and an unrelenting encik/PS/CSM breathing down our necks to enforce timings and ever ready to knock us down for being too sloppy. The freedom, in fact, to see adveture in the most miniscule yet crazy little things; clambering onto and bypassing a corrugated metal sheet blocking my path and climbing over the low fence at the longkang, creeping across the ledge to bypass yet another sheet; all in order to leave my estate to get to the basketball court across the road with my cousins, and later, moving to look for another court (that one was already occupied) only to discover that the hoops had broken off, and then playing 2 v 2 ultimate frisbee instead. A sweet nectar that I plan to enjoy fully once I ORD.

Staring at the city lights, at people going about the hustle and bustle of everyday life, it struck me how removed from it all we NSmen are. Once we set foot in camp, we assume our second identities, ones which we've conditioned to willingly accept the rigors, regimentation et al of in camp training, and as we go through the week, one event follows another, in rapid succession, no time to think about other things; best not to think about other things. It's scary how easy it is to lose sight of yourself; who you are, what you're doing, the things you stand for; what you're aiming for in life. It's as if we're safely ensconced in a bubble, removed from the flow of everyday life; and I'd hate to think what kind of lost soul would be released when the bubble pops 17 months down the road. I'd cry out for someone to save me, but really, who's up to the task?

Self-help then, is the way to go, and I hope my endeavor to earn a shiny pointy piece of metal serves to focus myself as well.

Sometimes I feel damn bloody lonely. Can anyone really understand? Do I even understand?

You won't ever see this; that's for sure, but whatever.

I'm sorry that I'm so meaningless. The words - or thoughts, at least - are there; in the somewhat shallow recesses of my mind, yet my brain freezes up, and my voice fails me; and I end up blurting out the first thing that pops from the mess.

The more I care the more strongly I am afflicted, a personal failing I guess.

But I'm truly sorry; anyways.