The place for you~

So, seeing as how the 3 bowls of milk pudding I made with my sis a week ago didn't give me diarrhea or anything like that, I've decided that it's time to post a little about my HK trip XD nothing pedantic or whatever here, simply in a very narrative sense, I may get tired of it halfway through so look out for future updates :)

The photos only start from the second day onwards, cause I only really woke up from there, which is quite a pity :/

The dim sum is awesum. Seriously. It's pretty much a staple to any mainstream HK family-oriented drama, you see them making reservations at the place for some dim sum with the whole family. It's really important to go early (or in our case late) if you want to avoid the queues to just get in. Placing our orders was a pain as they don't take your orders directly (the servers are way too busy) and instead get you to check them off on some menus. Which was a problem as the dishes are spread out among various different menus and in the end they only collect that single sheet of paper, thus missing out some of our orders in the process, which kinda sucks, and we couldn't be bothered to correct them, seeing the inordinately long amount of time they took to start serving our dishes. Really delicious though, especially siu mai in the bottom left as well as everything else, really :P

The next day we hopped onto a ferry to Macau, around an hour's journey from the HK ferry terminal. We were I suppose fortunate in that we managed to charter a van at the Macau terminal to bring us around to the more scenic places which tourists frequent, saving loads of walking and also cause we hadn't done much prior research. It worked out pretty nicely for me as I'm a scenery kinda guy.

 Fisherman's Wharf, some kind of themed attraction done up in a um...coliseum style? I'm not sure myself, but it was quite cool and prompted a spree of gratuitous photo-taking, tourist style which I'll admit is decidedly uncool x.x

Wiki tells me these are the ruins of St. Paul's Cathedral, it looks nice from the front and back but it's pretty much a 2D free-standing facade. Loads of people taking photos of it too, as you can see, and behind me were a few streets of shops too, selling the famous Portuguese Egg Tarts and some apparently well known pork chop bun. I was pretty sick and tired of the ubiquitous Polo (Pineapple) bun as we'd bought a whole bunch of them while exploring the streets of HK the night before, no pics unfortunately, and since the rest of my family didn't feel like eating them after they turned cold, it fell to me and my bro to finish them off. urgh but this pork chop variation wasn't bad at all, and the Portugues Egg Tarts are freaking awesome. No words to describe them, oh how badly I'd suck as a food critic xD

Me seen here posing which the sign which points at the (purportedly) authentic store, among tons of others. I have one of my sis too but decided against putting that one up.

 A cursory view of the Macau streets and shophouses I saw while walking around, pretty interesting style, not that I'm an expert or anything, and there was even this Primary school squeezed in-between some shophouses too,  not something you'd see in Singapore.

We had a pretty good view of Macau Tower and the harbour below from up high. The tower actually doubles as a bungee jumping platform, I actually managed to spy some people jumping off and dangling from the bungee cord before being lowered to the ground. There's also apparently a skywalk where they let you walk around the outer circumference of the topmost portion of the viewing deck; unfortunately we didn't give it a try.

A visit to The Venetian, a luxury hotel cum casino had me overawed by the bling on display. Pretty darn opulent. I decided against attempting to set foot into the casino portion (minimum age 21) though I suppose I may have been able to fake my way in. The long hallway leading to the casino seems pretty reminiscent of a chapel I've seen somewhere, except in this case dedicated to the worship of indulgence and wealth.

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 With a name such as "The Venetian" it's pretty expected that they'd have a street of shops done up to look like a facsimile of Venice within the building itself. Believe it or not, the photos below were taken entirely indoors, under perennially unchanging skies, or rather a ceiling painted to look like the sky. Such is the hubris of Man. It's pretty similar to the one you'd see at MBS but on a much grander scale, and with a much more pleasant ambiance. The boaters regale you with song, you have costumed street performers roaming around to entertain patrons, and it's an undeniably pretty sight AND yet another great photo-taking opportunity, apparently it's featured in some Korean drama too, probably one on a tight budget.
 

Me and my brother looking especially bemused after a pretty interesting episode in ShenZhen. We'd taken a train ride (yet another hour spent traveling) to ShenZhen, whereupon we took a supposedly free shuttle bus to this place called Maya City on my uncle's recommendation, with him saying it was a good place to relax and shop. Famished from the trip and eager to get some lunch, we approached reception to ask whether there was anywhere to eat nearby, only to be given the band which you see around my hand and told that in order to be allowed to go to the restaurant upstairs, we first had to take a bath and have a change of clothes. We did feel like stepping away, but there was something menacing in the way the rest of the staff were closing around us so we did as they said, going to our respective changing rooms. I don't know what the female one was like obviously, but at ours we were chaperoned by crew cut middle-aged men dressed in what suspiciously looked like prison garb, with horizontal orange stripes, who instructed us, without ceremony to strip and put our stuff in the lockers provided. It was all very sudden, and kinda shell-shocked, we complied in bemused fashion, showering in cubicles without doors, where other guys walked around naked, and found ourselves attired as above. After a surprisingly decent lunch, we were persuaded into getting a full-body massage each, I'm still not quite sure how the chain of events led to that. Regardless it was pretty good, though I found it a little....strange to say the least. Elaborate I shall not. Anyways after that we were finally able to extricate ourselves from that place and went on to our next objective. Honestly though, it'd have been relaxing in another set of circumstances, and if we hadn't gone there totally not knowing what to expect, so I suppose I'd consider going back some day.

Next was a trip via cab to Dafen Oil Painting Village, quite an interesting place dedicated to the export of reproductions of masterpieces. My dad wanted to get a couple of paintings for his clinic and our house as well, which was our primary reason for making the trip to ShenZhen in the firstplace, from which we'd been unfortunately sidetracked. It was amazing to see the number of artists who had set up shop there to sell their works; cheaply, in the case of the smaller paintings, of which I got a few for around $5 SGD each, and also pretty cheap for the larger paintings as well, now that I think about it. I found it quite strange to grapple with the concept of mass-produced art; lying around were stacks of canvas, paintings which had yet to be mounted on a frame, often stacks of the same painting, reproduced many times over. At the store we finally settled on, the owner had a computer where he would google various famous artists to allow my dad to pick from their works to commission a reproduction of, much like shopping from an online catalog. It's testament to their skill that they can reproduce almost anything, and I suppose some of the works on display were originals too; it was a very eye-opening experience. As I walked the streets whilst my parents were finalizing the details, I even stumbled upon an artist in a small studio along a side-alley, painting a copy of the Mona Lisa with his back faced to me. Curious, I watched him for awhile as he worked. He had a small printout of the original clipped to the side of his easel and that alone was sufficient for him to make his own reproduction as he carefully applied the layers of oil to form the hand and filling in the black to define the fingers. I was pretty interested in a couple of landscapes to hang above my bed but skinflint that I am, finally decided not to go in for them afterall.

A highlight of our nightly roams around the HK streets would be whenever we gleefully stumbled over yet another dessert shop, these above look nice I suppose, but they weren't the best that I got to try, more later!

I enjoyed our trip to Ocean Park immensely, I didn't take any photos of the entrance though! Take note that outside food is prohibited, as I found out to my detriment when I had to part with some choice snacks stowed in my bag. First was this underwater world kinda attraction, very well presented, with a lot of educational displays set up, and of course with a gigantic, well-occupied aquarium with well-placed viewing windows and all that.

Jellyfish!

Next was a cable car ride to the other half of the park. It's quite interesting cause when you first step in the part looks good, but still pretty small, it's only when you realize that there's another half of it hidden on the other side of the mountain that you start to appreciate how immense it is. The ride was awesome. Breathtaking scenery, my pictures can't begin to do it justice; it was quite foggy, and a nice cool wind permeating the cabin.

As with any good amusement park, Ocean Park has some pretty neat rides as well. We (me and my bro, cause the rest of my family didn't dare to) took The Hair-raiser first; it's the maniacal clown face in the background of this picture, followed by The Flash, The Abyss drop and the Viking Ship. Strangely enough, the scariest was the Viking, even though The Hair-raiser turned us upside down, The Flash turned us 360 degrees and The Abyss was just shit-in-my-pants inducing, probably because they were all too short, and nothing induces that lurching feeling that feels like your viscera are about to pop out of your chest like the Viking. After that was an amazing sea animal show, much more impressive than the one I remember seeing at Sentosa a long time ago.

The crappy part of the park being in 2 halves though, was that it rained. Heavily. Cable cars are obviously a sub-optimal way of ferrying large amounts of people across a mountain in the shortest time possible, and with the long queues, we ended up walking; taking escalator after escalator down the mountain in order to get onto a shuttle bus to bring us back to the entrance.

Wet and starving (we had little for lunch as food inside is so freaking expensive, all part of the corporate plan obviously) we were in need of good food. My mum called ahead to make a reservation at some place famous for it's roasted and cured meat, the name eludes me currently, and it was goood (Y) The roast duck was amazing, so was the veggies with century and salted eggs, the pigeon not so much, a little too salty and tough for my liking.

These hygiene stations dispense alcohol for sanitary purposes and are common in shopping centres and such, an exemplary practice imo!

The HK harbour area looks very impressive, it probably edges our Marina area by just a bit xP The occasional junks you see sailing by and a nice touch too! My parents insisted on walking down the Avenue of Stars, which basically has these concrete and metal plates inserted into the floor with impressions of famous actors/actresses along with their signatures. I originally looked for this guy's print cause I thought it was Jackie Chan only to realize that it was someone else completely. After googling it I now realize how horribly wrong I was. Sigh. Still makes a pretty good illustration I guess so I'm keeping the picture.

I didn't actually visit the Andy Warhol exhibit at the HK art museum but they had this interesting thing setup downstairs inline with the 15 minutes of fame theme. They basically allow you to take pics of yourself and run it through a program to convert it into an "Andy Warhol" style photo, which they would then display on a wall for a couple of minutes. Being the creative guy that I am, I soon stumbled upon the idea of putting my phone's screen in front of the camera to create some of people who weren't physically there, resulting in this:

Lol. I wanted to do the same for each of you but there were too many people queuing up and we had to go ><

 

 

Pretty much the best milk pudding in town. Super delicious. I'd totally recommend this place to anyone visiting HK for the milk pudding alone.

More food. HK milk tea is a lot better than Singapore's and this meal actually came with some toast too.

A simple illustration of how foggy it was on the day we left. The topless towers of HK? xP We took a ferry across HK bay to HK island, then took a bus up to Victoria Peak. It was um...cool I suppose to be actually entering the fog as we climbed up the mountain, didn't do wonders for the view unfortunately. We had initially considered taking the footpath further up but ultimately decided it wasn't worth it with the limited time and the fog would have obscured our view anyway so we stayed there for awhile before making our way down once more.

 And that was it. Afterwards was a trip to the airport, clearing customs, landing at Changi, purchasing as much duty free liquor as we could, and the trip home. HK was certainly an enjoyable place to spend the week, an apt description of it would be "similar to Singapore but not quite". The developed areas, with shopping centres and branded goods occupying pole position in windows could be a carbon copy of what you'd see while walking along Orchard Road, but the less modern areas are a different creature altogether. Night markets where I almost got fleeced by some vendor while buying a couple of gifts, as well as those unruly streets which twist and turn and branch abruptly, something you certainly wouldn't observe in Singapore, yet which lend the place an organically vibrant feel.

Nothing feels dry if your hands are wet.

What Are Words

Guess I've got no time to be dithering over the value of words when I've got a personal statement to construct/put together/fabricate. Thinking about it now though, I'm probably a lot more direct in my thinking than I ever was back in school. Or maybe not hehe. My brain works in pretty odd ways. I spend ages thinking about the right thing to say, then in the end decide that it's way too generic and mainstream and end up saying something else instead, stuffing the proverbial foot in my mouth. And it's not even the right foot! This self-sabotage really has to stop, eh?

But seriously, what are words? Cause I just can't resist. It's the time of the night when words flow freely yet mean nothing at all, which is why I'm refraining from working on it till the dawn of the cruel light of day. Night, that's a time to sort through jumbled thoughts and emotions, rearranging them in different ways, that may or may not be noticeably organized.

Much like anyone else, excepting those certifiable vegetables, and many non-certified ones out there, many thoughts course through my head throughout the day, some which I wish to convey, some which I don't. For lack of a better means, this unenviable task falls upon the ever so ubiquitous words, which more often than not, I find horribly limited. Set aside the irony that it's those self-same words which I'm employing right now. There's no other choice, you see. I think in words, holding those long internal dialogues (or is a better term monologues? I wouldn't want to imply that I'm suffering from split personalities, which Wiki kindly informs me is known as Dissociative Identity Disorder, DID for short) which spiral on and on, downwards or upwards nobody knows. Sometimes I wonder privately, a far-more-than-lingering suspicion that this mental framework of words severely limits my mental capabilities. If by force of habit I think in words, is the speed of my thoughts only as fast as these words can be selected and put together into a semblance of rationality? If I can only process things in words, is my ability to understand new stimuli and input limited by the words with which I have at hand to describe and ascribe certain characteristics to? And if these words, in their recalcitrance, refuse to come to me, and I find myself not only speechless but completely and utterly flabbergasted (now that's a word I've been wanting to use) am I then completely hapless? I apologize if the above paragraph sounds more than a little insane, it's been brewing for awhile now, and what started off as a seemingly perfectly good idea to be developed on has now grown out of hand, and yet I, as it's originator, much like how Frankenstein probably couldn't bear to get rid of his monster till it had offed a couple of people, just can't bear to euthanize it.

Very often I have difficulty expressing myself (in dark moments I wonder if maybe it's because I'm devoid of anything to express) the thoughts too heavy for words to bear. Yet words are such easy things to give and receive in so many forms, what then are they truly worth? Far be it from me to disregard words from the heart, but it's honestly so hard sometimes. Strange then that despite questioning their worth, that I could be hurt so by just a couple of words, flippantly delivered. When the message sent differs from that which is received, should that be considered the greatest travesty or a blessing, well disguised?

Then there are those moments so pure words simply do them no justice, that in the mere retelling they are inexplicably diminished; these I recall with nostalgia, joy tinged with regret, for come again in self-same form they won't, rewind the clock I can't, and even memories don't last forever. I remember a time almost two years back, day spent head buried in words and more words, the minutes timelessly passing by, and afterwards, making the trip home. The air cool, traffic light, a detour gladly taken. The fog lifts and words depart on the stroll home, passing by the set of bars and deciding on a whim to pull myself up, towards that gap between the foliage overhead and the full moon peeking through, up and down, over and over, each attempt to reach out and grasp it giddily fulfilling but ultimately unsuccessful. As I near home, the neighbor's dog barks; I shush it as I pass, step through the gate, and the moment is over. Of passing out in September, that charge down the street, all of us, wordless growls emanating from our throats, so fresh to the chevrons, pride, achievement, all that didn't really matter, just the immediacy of release. Moments I now recall as a pile of snapshots, and yet the words come in, as they invariably do. I don't really know how to describe this, but think of it this way: When you name something, does the object describe the name, or the name the object? It may be the former, initially, but as memory fills up, all that's left are words, words ascribed yet which aren't a perfect fit, can't be a perfect fit, and something crucial is irrevocably lost. Best then that these moments be given the varnish of time and held at arm's length. Look too closely and you may not like what you see. Best also, as we humans are creatures of time. We can't live simultaneously in past, present and future, though some would like to think otherwise, and onwards we must go.

I'm tired, and till now no closer to answering or even exploring the question. There's probably never to be an answer, and I suppose I've revealed enough mental instability for one day, or possibly a lifetime, you never know. I could end of with a list of things words are, which is basically a whole bunch of contradictions, and at another time, I guess I would have, but enough with the coulds and mays and whatnot, I simply will end, in the laziest and most basal of ways; in eponymous rhetoric:

What are words? Thank you.

A Giving of Thanks

No, December hasn't yet descended upon us, but it's as an opportune time as any to let this out. It's nothing new perhaps, but it's something I can never repeat enough.

Thank you, friends, for being people I can share freely so much of myself with, from the deepest of concerns to the most frivolous of passing thoughts, though they may be met with merciless laughter.

Thank you for making even the most mundane of walks down the street filled by laughter without abandon, flowing so freely that I wonder how I could lack of it so dearly in day to day life.

Thank you for those strolls in twos, reminiscing about times past, for the (I'd like to think) intelligent, or at the very least heartfelt discourse on all things under the sun, moon and stars (and whatever other celestial bodies) wherever our chatter may wander, and for the sharing of dreams for the future large enough for us all, never let them die.

Thank you also, for being there in those sombre moments, when the initial high of the encounter has faded, and we find our minds occupied with individual thoughts. Some things we may only deal with ourselves, but it's reassuring to know I don't have to dwell on them alone. I used to think, in a curious mix of naïveté and cynicism that the "who" in that equation, that the person didn't matter, but I've grown to realize that it's all that really does.

Thank you for so many more things, things no less in importance yet number too greatly for this sleep deprived mind to list. Trust that they are appreciated regardless, in myriad forms, by a quiet heart.

So lastly, thank you for the time, all of it, past, present future, that something so spontaneous could go so absofreakinglutely well to birth such a rewardingly cathartic experience is rare indeed. Overanalyzing things or being overly verbose I may be accused of, and I guess I probably do care about things, horribly microscopic things that nobody else does, but lastly, thank you for the memories, may they never die. I keep them close to heart. And may there be many others, more, to illuminate the way along this winding road ahead.

It's not exactly great to be back, but it's not bad either, and it's time to get things going. It was a good trip, I've still yet to sort out the photos and think about how I'll write about it but a post is definitely forthcoming xP I do want to capture it while the experience is still vivid in my mind. There's a lot to do now that I'm back, gotta get myself out of the holiday mood ASAP x.x

I took my time to get home yesterday, reached almost 2 hours after booking out, and wasn't particularly bothered by it. I'm simply glad to be out of camp, yeah? Pretty much wasted the day away feeling horrible, hopefully it's just a passing cold, what cruddy timing. I haven't been able to get myself excited about the trip because of that, perhaps things will be better tomorrow.

It was a pretty interesting week once more, preceded by - or indeed facilitated by - some hilariously impressive logistical cockups which meant we were unable to bring our vehicle over to another camp for a certain parade, which freed us up for the week. It's quite amusing, really, that for all the armored vehicles and such we may posses, our mobilization is so severely limited by the availability of the services provided by an external organization. There are a lot more minor - and not so minor - incongruities which I could point out, but I don't wish to tempt fate, really should save myself the trouble.

I had the privilege I guess, of being selected for a cyberpioneer interview on Tuesday. I was initially quite concerned that I'd screw things up, which I personally feel I have a major penchant towards, but things turned out surprisingly well :) It's experiences like this and its ilk such as the one last week with the general that I really appreciate, I haven't had much experience presenting and most importantly in appearing confident in front of people who are not only strangers but also superiors, so more experience can only be good. It really helps to build confidence knowing that I can do it without screwing up, and finding out that it really isn't very hard at all.

Well anyway I'll cut it short here cause I'm off to bed. It's an early flight tomorrow x.x

PS. Happy birthday Mos, you're a dear friend and I'm very glad I know you :) Jack and Merv too, I just didn't think to post on your birthdays haha.

It was a pretty sedate if not quite sedated Saturday COS in not-so-sunny Gedong, I was initially under the impression that I'd finally be able to overturn that sleep deficit of mine but apparently waking at 5am for flag raising (in an otherwise empty battalion) thinks otherwise.

The week started off interestingly enough, a semi-important presentation to some visiting general with loads of crabs and a couple of stars floating around to grace the occasion and 3 chocolate bars ferrying them around, imagine! Yet I somehow got the impression that they didn't really care how well we presented. Though the foreign one did pepper us with a few questions, it was probably more out of polite curiosity than anything else, and I got a strong vibe that it really didn't matter to our side at all so long as there were no major complaints. Oh well.

The rest is only noteworthy for how unremarkable it was. Greasing the rack pins on our bridges is a tedious task; involving degreasing each of 748 pins (try saying that number out in Chinese lol) by way of vigorous twisting and wiping them individually with newspaper before going over it all again with a fresh coat of grease. We did that for 3 bridges on Wed, and what I found remarkably unremarkable was that amidst the twist, pull, degrease and repeat, twist, pull and repeat, barely a thought crossed my mind. I seriously found myself thinking about why I wasn't thinking about anything, till that thought itself was shoved to the back of my head beneath the mindless repetition. It's not like I'm new to repetition, shooting made sure of that, yet it's as if there's zero stimulus in the work I'm doing, or it's so totally mindlessly absorbing that I'm unable to wander whilst doing it, besides occasionally cursing under my breath as I wipe my sweat with my sleeve or knee, hands too dirty you see. I'm honestly quite scared whenever I stop to evaluate, if you will, the extent that my mind has degenerated over the past months.

Well anyway, time to type something random. I've been thinking (oh the irony given what I just typed above) and I suppose a lot of grief and frustration we have is due to our expectations, and more specifically, due to a mismatch between these expectations and reality. I've got loads of section mates complaining that they don't feel like they're being treated as sergeants; that we don't enjoy the privileges which they feel we deserve. Though I obviously wouldn't balk at greater privileges, I don't think things are that bad, I mean, what more do you want to ask for? Expectations that arise from a misplaced sense of entitlement are obviously begging to be disappointed. I guess not having had had a true taste of reality, and constantly being rewarded for most of the things we've been doing in much of our early life, we've come to expect alot; be it recognition, material recompensation etc for effort towards anything we do, and this results in a faulty or truly unrealistic gauge of the proportion of effort:reward. I haven't quite come to terms with it myself and occasionally find myself wondering why the world isn't bending over backwards to kiss the ground at my feet for every little thing I do, every little pearl of wisdom that spills from my mouth. Cause that's obviously the way the world's supposed to work, right? Obviously that's only one way to look at it. In such cases it's imperative to relook our mindset to adjust our expectations accordingly and be less delusional about things. But what about when expectations aren't overly high; when reality simply fails to meet expectations where it should. It would obviously be a travesty to resign oneself to the reality of things; who'd change things (for better or worse) otherwise? Like most things there's probably a happy medium between delusional and cynical resignation for each of us, and what I'm trying to say is that it's very important to learn to choose your battles. Sometimes when you give up you might be right that you're wrong, that's better than being wrong that you're right, but if you're passionate about it maybe it doesn't matter either way.

More than a little presumptuous I'm aware, and probably an overly simplistic treatment but that's the "best" I can muster for now.

Bleh off to sleep now. Just found out that tomorrow morning's convoy was cancelled so I retracted my am off for nothing. I really do hope we win today's match though :/

I'm getting a little tired of saying that I'm tired of all this, so I'll just start with some stuff that happened this week and move on from there.

We've been having our Crew Proficiency Tests these past two weeks, with Wednesday being the night addition. It was my first time launching under those conditions, cause as a trainee we didn't have the opportunity to go outfield for our night launches and did them at D801 instead, with the streetlights shining in the distance. It was a pretty novel experience as a result. My first one was done closed-hatch, imagine it being so dark that upon looking out the periscope from within the tank, everything was pitch black, I couldn't make out anything at all and had to resort to the tank's infra-red camera instead. Which sucked; I don't know whether that tank's particular display/camera was faulty or whether it's a characteristic inherent to the system, but the display would lag constantly and exhibit something called 'ghosting' whenever there was any movement, leaving multiple afterimages spread across the screen. It was more than a little disconcerting to follow Nelson's hand signals after he had dismounted via the screen, and quite scary to have multiple images of him appear on the screen, the only way to differentiate which was the actual one being following the one that was moving. A surreal experience overall, encased in the metal shell of the tank, sitting in relative comfort in it's cool interior, a feeling of extraordinary distance from the outside world, linked only by what I could make out from the shifting black and white display, with the steady throbbing of the engine at my back the only thing I could hear. Somehow it feel like it didn't matter whatever I did, while ensconced inside, a dangerous sentiment I suppose while having to maintain absolute concentration on the screen at my side. Thankfully it passed without (much) incident and the moment ended when I opened the hatch, switching to my night vision goggles instead and confronting a 2D world depicted in shades of unearthly green. Much easier, but still tough with next to zero depth perception. It started to rain heavily after that, so we buttoned up in the L2 once more, it's really not bad inside, air con for when you're too hot and heating via the engine when it's a little chilly. And that's how the night went, more rotations between vehicle commanders and operators before finally RTU and washing up.

It's been quite a dreary week all that aside; we didn't do much work, surprisingly, just washing the tanks and stoning around in the office, it's not a very fulfilling life alas, but it's all I have for now, in this time stuck between dates, held in limbo :/

It's been a year since we returned to RJ to collect those result slips, and I'm really not sure whether to say "only" a year or that it's "already" been a year. A lot has happened in the intervening time, that's to be sure, and yet when you tell me that out of the 22 months of service I've already completed 13 I'm honestly so, so, so, pleasantly surprised. Some things you don't realize till they're laid out before you. In all this time, the importance of those grades has dwindled all so significantly. A potentially damning statement but an honest one I feel the need to express. Rather than thinking about whether I'm a better or worse person for my grades, which is a totally irrelevant/nonsensical question I guess, I find myself wondering whether I'm a better or worse person for this period in NS. And as I weigh up the changes I find evident to myself in my head, I'm afraid the scales seem to tip heavily towards the latter rather than the former. The army has a fearsome ability to strip away whatsoever naivete one may possess, I don't really like what it's left in its wake. The self-analysis I'll save you the bother of reading through, but that's where things stand, really.

Amidst all this I really know that I should be looking ahead rather than at what's right in front of me, that these times which drag on so will come to a blessed end, but I'm honestly afraid. While others look to the future with hope, I look to it with no small measure of trepidation. I hate making choices, indecisive creature that I am, yet a choice I shall have to make. But I suppose if I were to be decisive about being decisive - as opposed to being purely lazy - I'd go all out to make sure that when the time comes, I do have those options at my fingertips rather than speculatively letting them slip away eh?

Going round in circles and it's the only place too

Being in camp makes me feel strangely emotionally distant. It's not that I don't feel anything, I still get pissed, depressed, occasionally fulfilled etc, it just doesn't feel like I'm really being affected. It's happening to me, yet it feels like it's someone else. I'm afraid that my time in the army has left me bereft of the ability to form meaningful connections with someone else, beyond the drudgery of daily life. I don't know whether I care anymore, you see. Amidst all the lanlansuckthumb, tenuous relationships and the work which just goes on and on, regardless of how well/badly I do it, I've coached myself into an apathy that I find now spills into those other parts of life. It's an oft repeated line, a recurring theme in these posts of mine I find, quite boringly so, but its veracity is no less by virtue of that fact, oft repeated lines are oft repeated for a reason; lack of any better ideas aside. But well, c'est la vie, and on and on it goes.

I guess the old truism applies: It's never as bad as you think it is, and never as good too. I've just got to keep reminding myself of it when I feel down and out, and also when I feel so elated my feet don't seem to touch the earth, though times with the latter are unfortunately few and far between!

Amos told me yesterday that each week that passes is almost exactly 1% of that countdown to ORD, a progress bar that has never filled up so excruciatingly maddeningly slowly before. Do I look forward to it's completion? Of course I do, but honestly please don't let what I post here mislead you; not entirely motivated I may be, but I still intend to discharge my duty to the (almost) best of my ability, though that doesn't mean I won't complain about it when the mood overcomes me. That much I think we NSFs deserve.

Been a pretty decent weekend, despite blowing off loads of cash, met up with JAMA for breakfast, it's been ages since we've last done that, someone always seems to be unavailable for some reason or another. Upside down was a pretty interesting movie too haha, comments reserved for later.

I'm off for a haircut after not having done so since before CNY, it's gotten so long I can hardly recognize myself xP

It's such a joy to reminisce and roll back the clock, even if it's only for a short while. It's reassuring that even though so much has changed; eyes that I can't bring myself to look straight into, words that I can't quite conceive myself saying, thoughts that maybe I shouldn't be thinking, I'm not so different that I can't appreciate those times all over again with a smile on my face.

While the veneer of happiness helps to make things bearable, it wears thin and sometimes I feel so lost (metaphorically of course) and there's no simple way to explain it. It's not very justified; life isn't that bad, but the feeling lingers, a horrible stench that just refuses to go away despite the most vigorous attempts at washing, always threatening to rise to the surface during those quiet moments.

Will you understand?

Of course not!

Sometimes I wonder why I even bother.

I've been negligent in posting, I know. Part of that due to simple laziness and another because I've let some thoughts stew in my head so long that they start to fester, such that when I finally come back to them, they don't seem like very good ideas anymore, certainly not worth penning down.

Anyways, the long CNY break has been a good one, I've always loved CNY, the general getting together and such, but there's always been a feeling of shallowness to it, especially with all the minor politcking and cultural expectations and such that have to conformed to. And the relatives, especially those of the extended family have always seemed pretty distant to me, with the basic interaction being "oh, look how you've grown!" and so on, nothing unexpected. I'm looking at it from another perspective, however. Those grand aunts, grand uncles and so on, those who appear so distant from me, are in fact my parents' aunts and uncles, my grandparents' brothers and sisters, and well I guess the kinship isn't shallow at all, I just don't feel it as much. I guess years into the future, as we all grow up and my closer family inevitably gets at least a little more experience, I'd cherish every opportunity to meet up and do some catching up of our own, and probably be astonished at how big my cousins' kids have gotten as well!

Yesterday my family went out to renew a couple of mobile plans for my dad, mum and sis, so I got the opportunity to take a look at some of the newer handphones on the market, and I was honestly very impressed. I'm amazed by the features of the Galaxy II and how integrated everything is, you can crop something from a picture you find on the 'net for instance or a picture you take and instantly make your own additions to send it to someone else or to make a personal note. It basically has so much to offer, but with a very simple caveat: Only if you know how to make use of it. IMO, Android and Apple seem to have very different marketing strategies. Android offers you the world, but only if you'll take it, while Apple obviously adopts the mentality of KISS (Keep it Simple, Stupid) and makes things so much easier to use, and a lot more idiot-proof. I'm very impressed by Android and their offerings on all the various other manufacturers, and I guess if they keep going in that direction, I'd very quickly be forced to reconsider my choice in my Iphone 4, but the Iphone offers a very appealingly simple package, one that my mum misses, cause she's very confused by the myriad of options and functions present in her new Galaxy II and she's honestly satisfied by very little; she just wants to surf the net and play Scramble with Friends with me (though I almost always beat her XP) so I suppose it could go both ways.

I have more stuff to say - when do I never.. - but it's time for lunch and the bookin back to camp.. It's been a good break, late nights, late mornings, doing as I pleased, a little selfishly at times I confess, but now's time to go back to that daily routine once more ><