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.

Anyways, bookouts now are pretty much the same as ever, sans the sense of anticipation of what could be which I used to feel each time I stepped onto the MRT. Utterly unrealistic, I know, but that's just the way my mind functions. I'll move on, in good time, but move on to what seems to be the more important question. As for now, I simply need to focus and get this annoyance out of the way.

Had an outing with Amos and Merv again yesterday. There's a pretty good pizza place, Manhattan Pizza or something over at Orchard Central (was it?). We shared a pizza, pretty worth it imo, then caught Celeste And Jesse Forever at Orchard Cineleisure. Nice little movie about best friends who are separated (as in that thing preceding a divorce) and yet continue to hang out together, and how they move on in life. I'd probably watch it again haha, can totally see why Mos is a sucker for these types of shows. After that was a walk along Orchard. It's so freaking bright! Haha and I think I can get a little high when given the chance to express myself.

Paying more for handmade goods = A form of sadism indeed!

Just think about it, assuming 2 somethings - I don't really care what - appear pretty much identical, and of similar quality, the only difference being one was machine-made while the other was painstakingly made, maybe by some elderly man in the mountain, the last scion of a dying craft (I love my melodrama); branding aside, which would you buy? Which would you be willing to pay more for? Forgive me for hazarding a guess but I'm pretty sure most would say the latter. Or even better, give someone 2 identical somethings but tell them that one's machine made while the other is handmade, they'd probably choose the second once again. Why? Is is simply because we automatically assume that something is of better quality simply because more human attention has been paid to it? Does it give us a nice fuzzy feeling inside when we think about the chair we sit in, or the clothes we wear, or the rugs we tread upon being painstakingly and lovingly carved out/stitched/whatever over hours and hours? Or maybe it's some kind of perverse sadism; we simply love the idea that hours of blood, sweat and tears have been invested as some complete stranger toiled over the thing that we're so casually sitting in/wearing/stepping on.

Or maybe it just makes you feel special. In a world where it's all too easy to feel yourself drowning in anonymity, where anything you feel adept in, undoubtedly proud of, someone else can definitely do better, maybe wearing something that someone out there dedicated themselves exclusively to makes you feel all that more unique. Who am I to judge.

I realize that I'm selfish, I crave exclusivity. I don't mind sharing what I have with others, but I want it to be clear that it belongs to me. I guess I feel the same about relationships as well, which perhaps is why I'm so plagued by that emptiness. It's immature, I know, but it's something I can't help as well.

Ex. Hercules 1 Plus

I went out for my first exercise with Alvin just last week, wasn't supposed to be the one going but Aaron happened to sprain his ankle quite badly so I replaced him instead. We went into it blind, having been "briefed" that it would be a simple one day affair, no need to draw weapons, forceprep our fieldpacks or anything like that; apparently we just needed to be there with our L2, chopchop go out, come back and that was it. We had no rations, didn't know the order of move, signal set frequency etc, totally unprepared. Things gradually worked out, though, as I managed to link up with our temporary PC, but it was kinda nightmarish, as we drove along with the convoy, or stoned in the tank when we halted, often for long stretches of time, watching night inexorably fall, and with it all hope of returning to camp that night completely extinguished.

What followed were a couple of firsts. Our first proper night launch, where as V.Comm I had to do a proper bridge site recce along with the PC and a security party, examining the far bank with his NVD, eventually picking a spot that turned out to be quite inappropriate...and my first time guiding vehicles across the bridge at night, from 9/10 all the way till 12 midnight. It's freaking stressful and tiring as well, I pretty much lost count of how many vehicles I guided over that night, straining to see in the darkness, where I could only make out faint silhouettes, making it completely impossible to align them properly to the bridge. Being blinded by the BO lights, the torchlights of the supervisors on the near bank and the occasional flashes from the retard who kept on taking pictures didn't help much either. Must have been a pretty perilous experience for the drivers haha.. There was some mixup in instructions after that was done, and I kept on having to guide my L2 from the side where we were parked into a position to retrieve the bridge, only to be instructed to guide it back again. Parallel parking ftw. I was chastised by some Captain after that for my choice of launch site, then finally got to retrieve the bridge after 4 hours of waiting, after which we rejoined the convoy to Charlie Mike.

Blah blah blah, I just realized that maybe I shouldn't be posting so much about it, suffice to say we drove around, halted for long stretches of time, had to constantly monitor our fuel gauge, which was dropping to dangerous levels; we were in constant fear that we wouldn't be able to make it back to camp if the exercise carried on any longer, as it threatened to do so when we went into hasty deployment at some large clearing. I was freaking starving by then, had conked out idk how many times in the tank during the many halts while waiting for the next instruction. At that point we were miserably contemplating having to perform our camouflage drill - just the two of us - in pitch darkness in the middle of the night. Luckily however, when the OC gathered everyone for a briefing, he basically said that they were just screwing with us, and that we'd be returning to camp that night.

So, it was a tiring, but also a positive experience I guess, in showing how our MEC fits in military exercises, and I also got to see how our military operates on the ground. Although the organisation itself is ponderous in nature, with so many inefficiencies so glaringly visible, it's also obvious that our soldiers aren't just for show. Our commanders have a pretty decent situational appraisal ability, and the men are competent in carrying out their instructions as well. It was pretty cool to listen in on their signal transmissions as well, hearing the signallers and commanders use militaryspeak, what punch through Malcom axis, link up idk what, concentrate forces along somewhere XD

Went out with Amos, Angie and Merv yesterday, caught Ted, had a good chat, played L4D2 and capped it off with Double Down Chicken at Astons. It was a pretty good day. It feels so different somehow, carelessly talking to a couple of close friends, freely talking about whatever I feel like talking about, reminiscing. Thanks! And it's these kind of moments that I recollect ruefully as I lie, alone in bed at night in camp, moments few and far between in the hustle and bustle of life and amidst a sea of uncomprehending faces, moments that I treasure all the more because of that. Pull me back when I'm sick and tired, stay by my side when I'm being all too callous, you have my thanks, and I'll be sure to return the favour.

No Time for 'Next Time's

Anyway, it's time to sleep. There's admittedly not much to look forward to for the next year and a half, no overwhelmingly huge milestones, just the same schedule pretty much every week, so there's tedium right there. Perhaps I'll try zooming in a little, try to recapture some joy and purpose in day to day life, and see if I shan't find some measure of success there.

I always find it hard to maintain my motivation for long periods of time; it's not that I don't see the huge, over-arching picture, it's just that as a whole, it doesn't really appeal to me much in the short-term at all, and I sometimes find it hard to directly relate what I'm doing, here & now with what doing so should get me sometime in the future. Is something wrong with me?

It's always possible to do practically anything next time, cause that means we don't have to do it now. Though the future is undeniably chock-full of potential, there are some things which shouldn't be put off till later, cause otherwise there's never going to be a good time for them. I'm honestly quite sick of the term "there's always next time", makes me feel a little uneasy whenever I find myself using it, to me it rings too strongly of hollowness and unfulfilled promises. Perhaps I'd find myself better served by simply moving on, moving on, moving on.

Release the Kraken

Been wanting to post for awhile, but I've been delayed by procrastination, and also after coming down with a bout of flu the past 2 days, may have something to do with the air once again, as well as the week's *ahem* exertions.

I'm pretty sure I've never been as freaking exuberant as during that single moment when we marched off the parade square, having received my chevrons from my mum. As we marched off, a reminder from Warrant Brydon to "behave ourselves until we made the turn", and to "release the kraken" Davy Jones style right after that. After rounding the corner, pretty much all of us started to run like mad, charging down the slope, guns waving wildly, shouting at the top of our voices, all the rigidly controlled energy from 3 full, tiring days of formal parade rehearsals released in that one awesome instant. I'll forget it in the future, no doubt, but not easily, that's for sure. Then we formed up for re-entry, quivering with excitement, singing the song with (a little too much) gusto, performing the roar, and that was it. We milled around endlessly on the brightly-lit parade square, taking tons of group photos under the glare of the floodlights, exchanging countless high-fives, fist bumps, and hugs, with the closer friends, calling each other "Sergeant", over and over again, the word still fresh on our tongues; giddy with exhilaration.

It ended after that, pretty much. And that's it, isn't it? Very often we spent so much of our time working our butts off, for something that lasts only minutes, or slightly longer, if we're lucky. And maybe that's the way things should be. Sometimes there's this mindset of over-entitlement, like putting in something should always yield proportionate results, but thinking that way can never be realistic. Maybe it's precisely because so much effort yields so, so little, that makes the little that we get magical and miraculous, something to be cherished and treasured. Idk, really.

Anyways, lots more responsibilities now that I'm a specialist rather than a trainee, and I'll make sure to discharge them to the best of my ability.

8 months into NS is not the best time to be making decisions that will affect the rest of your life. It's just this general feeling of helplessness that's engulfed me over the months, a small nagging voice that tells me that I've got no control over my own fate. I need to find the strength in Invictus, and I can only hope that things will change for the better in the coming months.

Anyways, had a pretty busy weekend, spent more than a couple of hours at the Botanic Gardens, pictures over at my shiny new Tumblr, I just hate how Blogger connives to mangle any pictures I upload, so that's where I'll put stuff not quite unworthy enough to be posted on FB xP

Now, it's off to Pasir Lebar for the last week of CAT term.

Okay, I'm finally done replying most of the birthday wishes on FB (not that I found them a chore, quite the opposite, really) and also done with Kiwi-ing my boots for the end-of-course ceremony tomorrow (done in record time too, it's quite simple with my little trick) so I've got a little time to play around with till it's time to go to sleep.

I feel quite fortunate that we get to stay out, both tonight and tomorrow, as you really get to do so much more with your time. It's also a great way to chill, after today's tedium.

Last week was physically taxing, what with having to clear the path leading into D801 of more than a year's worth of accumulated mud/sand/dust/general debris, shoveling and scraping for around a day and a half under a pretty merciless sun, and while breathing hazy air. Follow that up with daily runs, PT and sports and games thrown in for good measure and we were understandably pretty shag by the end of the week. I've played more soccer over the past few weeks than I have in my entire life, which is quite pathetic, but you've gotta start somewhere, right? I'm horrible, and almost exclusively right-footed, which is to say I can sortta pass and shoot with it, and do next to nothing with my left >< It's fun though, and I enjoy those nightly King of the Court matches we have at 38 SCE. On Friday, we gathered our belongings and transferred them to the adjacent MEC block, marking the end of our course at ETI. There was still a lot of stuff to bring out, though, and I almost died (hyperbole!) lugging my backpack, assault pack and handcarrying my parade boots all the way to the guardhouse, with a detour to the emart to purchase a new rank and a couple of badges.

To say I was disappointed after last week's announcement would be a major understatement, but I was more or less anticipating it, to be honest, and was braced for it. I guess I can deal with it; no disappointment is too large that I can't get over it with a couple of night's sleep and much self-dialogue; though I'd have to admit the wound was ripped open once again during today's ceremony. Oh well, I'm 100% sure that when I look back on this a few years down the road, this little thing would be the least of my worries. And at least now I can relax, but this behind me and focus on what I have to do.

Now, all that's left is to let the warm darkness of slumber embrace me, Nights~

I realize now the importance of having people around you who get you, or if they don't at least endeavor to do so. There's this particular void in my life right now, where I find myself bereft of meaningful, enjoyable interactions, where I can just carelessly be myself without fear of being made fun of or summarily judged, or at the very least, having to endure moments of awkwardness. So thank you, friends, cause it's only without you guys that I realize how much you enabled me, in so many different ways. And now it feels at times like I walk a lonely road, no matter how many people I have trudging alongside me. I crave understanding, recognition and respect, and without it, I feel like I'm slowly losing myself in the crowd.

Am I special? Am I unique? Am I actually worth something? I guess no matter how much one may natter on about intrinsic worth and so on, external validation is equally important; a buttress that keeps the house of cards from caving in. I don't want to care, yet I ultimately do, which is a freaking messed up situation.

Anyways, this chapter of Gantz is pure win, go take a look.

Something should be said, I guess. The weekend passed, very quickly. I only wish I had more time to spend curled up on the coach, cradling and devouring a book at my own pace, but alas such luxuries are few and far between. Saturday I helped out at the range at my coach's behest, which I would have felt bad denying. Spent a couple of hours there, had lunch, met Amos, went over to Nex with him, chatting along the way, about things I haven't let my brain dwell upon for oh-so-long, it was quite satisfying; a release, in so many ways. Let him to his welfare farewell, while I had dinner with Merv and Jack, and Amos joined us after he was done. Another farewell, there, with Jack sailing off with the navy in a few days time. Seems like everyone's taking their leave, in one way or another. People going off to school, if they haven't already, and even set awash by the currents of life; I can't help but wonder when, if ever, we'll get back together again.

As for me? I'm left with the not-quite entertaining prospect of the next one and a half years in MEC, which I'll probably be talking about in the not-so-distant future, so I'll leave that till later. I've had to endure so much frustration the past few weeks, I really hate it when people judge and pigeon hole, saying "oh, he's always like that", and no matter how hard I try to break perceptions, nothing ever changes. Nothing ever changes. Guess that goes for other things as well. It's frustrating. I want to lead, I want to be assertive. I know that I have ideas, and I want to communicate them to others, in the best way possible. Yet to get shot down by people saying "you think too much" or to simple not have the crux of the idea get across effectively, then one other guy coming along, repeating the exact same thing, only a little more forcefully, replacing my "we" with his "I", and the rest then going along with it. Why? Are my attempts at inclusiveness, at fostering discussion and so on, only ultimately self-defeating? Should I not bother at all? Or is that to be my lot in life? Someone trying, struggling, really, to transform himself, yet seeing his efforts ultimately futile, always futile. And I can't help but think plaintively, and a little pathetically, "Why don't things go my way for once?" But I guess I have to realize, and have been forced to realize the reality. That the world at large doesn't really care about the fate of individuals, there's no narrative where events will suddenly swing in my favour, the world doesn't owe me anything, nor do I have any great entitlement. Yes, I may work hard, but sadly, that doesn't entitle me to get what I wish for, such is the way of life. JTB, LL, Suck thumb.

Yet maybe it's when you lower your expectations that you can really have something to hope for, so we'll see how things pan out, eh? I should just cut out the whining and go to sleep. The week awaits.

So maybe I've had a little too much to drink at Yifan's birthday celebration. Vodka is freaking awesome. Initially left a warm burning sensation down my throat, but subsequent cups downed with ice left a refreshingly cool yet warm buzz all over :D (I just might be a happy drunk; there's still hope!) Had a pretty good time there too, and I'm horribly impressed by how hospitable he was, cooking some awesome Chinese food himself and in general the way he handled the whole thing. I really enjoyed the opportunity to catch up with some old friends as well. Always good to hear things from a different perspective; a fresh breath of air and all that.

Ah nevermind, there's nothing much to say, really. It's saddening, this dearth of meaning. Kinda makes me want to do something, anything, for an infusion into my life. In fact, I'm probably checking into IMH next Sat, which isn't as bad as I'm intentionally making it sound, of course, and I'll have to get myself up to speed with regards to uni apps and all that nonsense. It's horrible having to deal with these things at the very moment when I find myself bereft of motivation, a little depressed, maybe, and having to deal with the last few weeks of life as a specialist cadet. Life in camp is really routine, can be a little frustrating, and is ultimately consuming. It doesn't allow much time for distraction, and demands much of the attention and energy I have to give, precluding extraneous thoughts and leaving me not much spirit at the end of the week, or even at the end of a day at work, during my rest hours to focus towards the more "significant" endeavors. My brain refuses to work properly, which doesn't exactly help either :/

Guess I can no longer wait for life to "move on", bogged down as it is by this mess that is NS. Instead, I've gotta take the initiative and make things happen, not simply allow them to happen to me, eh?

I've come to realize that time and awkwardness do nothing to come between an earnest and sincere relationship (most generic term possible). If you genuinely want me to be/remain part of your life, and make it possible, that's where I'll be. And I'll make room for you as well. Pretty simple, when laid out like that. I want to put in the effort to do so, and not let people who I really enjoyed spending time with become mere "corridor friends" inhabiting the halls of memory.

In lieu of an actual post, here's some filming I did today:

Each weekend, I'm always shocked at how fast time slides by, or rather how I let it slide by, simply whiling the hours away, one after the other. And now begins the inexorable countdown once again. Pretty soon, I'll be done with my SCT stint, and life will carry on as a sergeant, all the way till ORD. A pretty sobering thought..

And the familial insanity continues...

I was playing a little friendly catching with my little sister when she ran and wrapped the day curtain in my room around herself, "hiding".

"Invisibility Cloak!" I called out, grinning as I walked closer.

And then she unwrapped herself and kicked me in the groin. I fell to the bed. She was understandably apologetic, and ran to get me a bunch of ice wrapped in a double layer of tissue paper for it; I couldn't stop laughing, despite the pain. 

Chemical-Induced Madness

Urgh that was a depressing performance, and I just got chased out of my room by a bunch of mosquitoes. Hopefully the parting salvo of repellant will do the job and I'll have a bed for the night.

Oh and I may be depressed, perhaps due to this medicine I'm taking for my acne, which still persistently refuses to go away, and may actually be getting worse, in no small part due to the dust, grease and dirt I face everyday. It was a weird moment, as I sat there in the bunk, finding myself getting frustrated and pissed, more than I usually do at the usual playful jabs and at other more serious incidents which I would normally have approached more calmly. It took some self-control to collect myself and give myself the metaphorical long, hard look. Was it simply a bout of foul mood that I was experiencing, or was it something more? Was the paranoia and constantly suspecting my bunkmate's motives - there'd been a theft of $100 earlier this week, not my money - while thinking that everyone was out to get me my usual cynicism at work or something else? The period happened to coincide perfectly with the time I had started to increase my dosage, and as I leafed through the potential side-effects of the drug, I found the psychological effects pretty striking. So, was that it? I don't like the idea of blaming such things on external factors, and I'd taken it before without experiencing something similar, but I don't think I was behaving and thinking like myself, and having pretty frequent headaches as well. It was pretty damning. And isn't it scary? You believe in self-determination, in having control over your own thoughts and actions, yet are forced to realize that they can be influenced by the smallest of things, perhaps a miniscule amount of chemicals flowing through your blood. It's frightening to think how little control one may have over himself. There are so many things that affect a person, genetics, the way neurons in his brain are linked to one another, the expression of certain genes resulting in the production of certain chemicals by the cells in his body which determine the way in which he reacts to his environment. There's certainly alot more factors to it, but I can't help but pose the question: Are our thoughts and actions really our own, or are we simply being driven to a forgone conclusion?

Anyways, I shall work at a more conscious level of self-control, and perhaps attempt to halt myself when I find myself on that all-too-familiar downward spiral of thoughts and emotions. Sitting at home myself for much of the day, just chilling has been a great help, I think :)

Somedays I wake up, a crazy idea at the foremost portion of my thoughts, just waiting to burst out, and sometimes it does. Yet other times I give pause to that reckless part of myself and allow the day to pass me by, stamping that moment of craziness surely and steadily into the ground. Who's to say whether that's for better or for worse, eh?

So it's passed, in pretty lackluster fashion. Can't really believe I've blown away the 4 day long weekend just like that; I somehow thought it'd be more...fulfilling? (Sorry Amos xP)  Instead I've been feeling myself getting lazier and more sluggish as the days passed, so I'm actually kinda looking forward to booking in, and dragging my sorry ass to actually do something; besides the usual book-in dread of course, as I count down the hours to when I have to leave my comfy home to make the weekly pilgrimage to Resort Gedong.

Well anyway, for memory's sake, here's a brief recount of the weekend's (ahem) exploits:

Caught Total Recall with Amos on Friday at Nex. I think I've mentioned in passing the little obstacle course I pass through each time I want to take the bus to Serangoon MRT from my house, but now here's a couple of pictures to serve as elaboration.

 

First, some corrugated metal sheet at the end of the alley that I have to squeeze past...

 Followed by this second one which I climb over the railings and crab-walk along the edge of the longkang to overcome, before crossing the road to reach the bus stop opposite. It's fun, in a childishly idiotic way.

Total Recall is one of those action-packed movies based upon a pretty engaging premise, almost Inception-level but not quite. A healthy dose of mindfucking thrown in for good measure, and quite a bit of food for thought as well. I think the key difference between what Rekall (a corporation in the movie which claims to be able to give customers memories they never actually experienced) offers and what happens in the Matrix is in perception. In the Matrix, captives (?) experience realtime sensory input, which merely bypasses the sensory organs to simulate the actual occurrence of events, in real time, while what Rekall does is 'play with the chemicals' in the brain and so on, to give you the memory of having experienced those events. Now, my question is, is there a difference? Some may say, no, in giving you the memory, the endstate; ie what you derive from it, is exactly the  same as having gone through the event yourself. In my opinion, however, this view discounts the importance of the here & now. I don't quite know how to describe it, honestly, it's simply the feeling that there's something about this very instant, this very moment that we experience, that can never be recaptured in our memories, no matter how vividly or clearly we recall it. Treasure the present, I guess, cause when it becomes the past, you're never going to get it back.

We were left to wonder at the degeneration of our brains as we browsed through some A level materials at Popular, and I'm starting to think that I'm really screwed for the BMAT, urgh. 

And I went out with Nicholas on Saturday, decided to jio him for lunch after running into him at Northpoint while waiting for Amos on a previous occasion. The small coincidences, eh? xP Did a bit of catching up, and what I think is really sad is the common agreement we all have, of this thing called NS leaving us bereft of purpose and ambition, at least for these 2 years. It's something I have to battle against, I guess, since I simply cannot continue slacking as I have been doing. It was nice to chat, talking to old friends is just so reassuring in so many ways, you have nothing to prove, nothing to gain, nothing to lose. 

And lastly, I went to help out at my Dad's clinic this morning; was quite a shock to have him come in while I was showering and ask me to help out cause both the staff who were supposed to be down today came down with diarrhea, so half-awake, off we went. Not much to say about this I guess; just that I got to see more of the way he interacts with patients.

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Time's caught up, it seems, so till next week.

Seems like I've been burning much of the long weekend SLEEPING. Urgh..

Time crawls, in the tank shed, hydraulics pumping as the bridge goes out and in, out and in. I've pretty much burned a 'video' of the launching and retrieving sequences into my memory; visualizing what's supposed to happen next in my head before confirming it as I see it play out IRL, over and over again.

I remember staring at the back of the L2, where the exhaust vents are, belching out hot air that leaves shimmering heat waves - visible I guess cause of the non-uniform variation in refractive index the heat creates in the air - and staring too at the wavering shadows they cast upon the ground, as I entertained the most random of thoughts. Wondering whether it's possible to become invisible, by wrapping a cocoon of hot air around yourself that sufficiently redirects the light, and the associated problems and solutions, such as creating an inner cooler layer of air as well, to avoid being steamed alive. Not a very efficient method I suppose, since it'd get blown away by the merest gust of wind. Oh well. At the very least such thoughts do keep the idle mind preoccupied.

Sleep, in a way, is like a uni-directional time machine. You fall into it, and without any perception of 'time' having passed, you wake up to a new day, a world that is subtly different, yet distinctly not the world you'd departed the previous day. Pretty neat, eh? And in my distracted woolgathering, I started to think about Sleeping Beauty; was she not then the first time traveler? Wouldn't it be interesting if instead of ending with a "And they all lived happily ever after" after being awoken with the magic kiss, the story continued, the female protagonist having to adjust to a world hundreds of years in the future, with her beau-to-be facing charges for sexual assault and them having to work for an honest living in a society which no longer believes in royalty. Culture-shock, basically. Somehow I doubt the transition would be as smooth as Captain America makes it appear to be.

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A particular highlight of the week was the Nee Soon guys joining us at Gedong for their motorization phase, where they learn to deal with the Broncos, while we do our own stuff. Felt damn shiok to meet up with Section 1 once again, just sitting in the bunk and talking cock, laughing my head off at Benedict's reenactment of a particular altercation with Raphael, and of something that happened during his stint as Sect Comm. I feel really lucky that we're still treated as part of the platoon despite having been posted out. Haha I look forward to some lively post-RO nights in the coming weeks. As an aside, I'm beginning to suspect that I have some sort of in-built propensity towards phail, but I'll leave that for later.

Signing off~

*Aunt walks into our house* 

Aunt: Do you know you left the gate open? 

Mum: Eh? You mean the big one? 

Aunt: Yeah, if not how do you think I came in? Jump over the gate ah. 

Dad: Oh I opened it when I was taking pictures. 

Mum: Go close it la, we don't want rats to come in. 

Dad: Big rats? Haha that can be quite insulting.

Mum: No la, I mean those that scurry in. 

*Much later*

*Uncle comes over*

Aunt: Do you know she called me a rat?

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KYong: Look! Got a lot of ants under your chair!

*ants milling around, picking up some huge crumbs*

Mum: See, they're very hardworking. Must learn from them.

A few seconds later, she's crouching on the floor, a bunch of tissue wadded in each had, vigorously squashing them. *whack* *whack* *whack*

It's simultaneously amazing and scary when you suddenly catch a glimpse of something you originally hadn't noticed. A facet of a person close to you that you never realized was changing, be it abruptly or slowly, passing unnoticed over time. Then I can't help but wonder: What else have I missed out? What else has changed? Why didn't I notice it? And knowing as well that though some come to light, still I remain oblivious to others, and may remain that way forevermore.

Guess I can never escape the subtle signs of change at work around me, whether I am a party to that change or not. The changes in mannerisms and speech I pick up as I speak to my sister, 'fresh' into secondary school, the slightest hint of barbedness in my parents' interactions, faces which look visibly older, looser, wrinkled, liver-spotted skin, a shrunken figure, all things that while pretty benign, jar and unsettle me. Even in myself I discover change at work, when I care to conduct a thorough bout of introspection, but that, I leave for another time. Some change you accept, the change of ascendance, things growing into their own, and others some parts of me still struggle against, dearly clinging on to fragments of cherished memories, refusing to let go.

And sometimes I feel like curling up into a ball and just rejecting the world, change and all. But it's unfair, isn't it? Cause though everything in the world may reject you, you can never reject the world. The machine doesn't cry at the loss of a cog, but the cog weeps over the loss of it's place in the machine. And there's always the worry that you won't have a place in this changed organism, what then?

Been in a pretty foul/belligerent mood since booking out, don't really know why. Lightened up somewhat during that talk at NTU I attended with my parents but worsened once more on the ride back. I have no idea why simply talking calmly without getting the other person riled up can be so hard at times...