It's sad. When you want to talk about everything and anything, yet can't even begin to do so, no idea where to begin, and eventually fire off some meaningless drivel.

Off to another week at Gedong.

Just Tank It

Funny how being in camp drives away all thoughts of the outside world, which only slowly drift back to me; apprehensions towards a murky future, all the what-ifs and maybes, oozing into my mind just before lights out, as I 'lie flat flat' and prepare to sleep. So, just something to think about. I think that horrible pang of loneliness you get, as the days troubles leave your mind, and haven't yet grasped the tasks that await the next day, that horrible indescribable loneliness which you can't share, can't salve, as you lie alone in bed, that's probably one of the most acute symptoms of the "human condition"

A pretty exciting week, I mustn't forget that initial thrill of driving, of the power as I revved up the engine - an engine capable of pulling >70 tonnes, no less! - as I sat in the tank. The exhilaration felt as the sand clouds washed over us, the sand on my face, it's taste in my mouth, gritty and real. Anxiously driving, wanting to take the turns slowly, watching out constantly for the freaking corners of the bridge above, extending beyond the front of the main chassis, to ensure I wouldn't inadvertently chop down a tree along the dirt path. Of driving up that steep incline, unable to even see the ground beneath me, simply pumping the accelerator to go forwards, blindly, with my field of vision the wide sky above. Of driving closed hatch, my butt uncomfortably in contact with the floor, feeling every bump and the incessant vibrations running through my body as I drove, revved, changed gears and braked, as I tried to adjust myself to catch the barest glance of the bridge. Of trying to stay in the middle of the road, while Staff Elvin constantly berating me the whole damn way. Of the fulfillment of what is quite possibly the childhood dream most males share, right alongside flying a plane, driving a firetruck (what starts with "f" and ends with "uck" hehx) and the most literally up there one, being an astronaut. I mustn't forget the initial trepidation, and general reluctance to increase speed, especially with constant reminders to not over-rev the engine.

A Saturday burned; or half of it, at least, most of the time spent on that endless maintenance and the various checks. Good thing I had no plans.

And I must remember, to adapt fast, and adapt well. So far I've been passive, and somewhat making a fool of myself at my new home, can't let this go on if I still want to remain in the game, right?

'I cannot say' said Lady LeJean

One Auditor said. You persist in using a personal pronoun.

And one added, And you have not died! To be an individual is to live, and to live is to die!

'Yes, I know. But it is essential for humans to use the personal pronoun. It divides the universe into two parts. The darkness behind the eyes, where the little voice is, and everything else. It is... a horrible feeling. It is like being... questioned, all the time.'

One said, what is the little voice?

'Sometimes thinking is like talking to another person, but that person is also you.'

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'Grey would be acceptable,' said Mr Green.

'Nevertheless, you are Mr Green. We are Mr Black. It is a matter of status'

'If that is the case,' said Miss White, 'white is higher status than black. Black is absence of colour.'

'The point is valid,' said Mr Black. 'Therefore we are now Mr White. You are Miss Red.'

'You previously indicated that you were Mr Black.'

'New information indicates a change of position. This does not indicate incorrectness of said previous position.'

It's happening already, though Lady LeJean. It's in the darkness where your eyes can't see. The universe becomes two halves, and you live in the half behind the eyes. Once you have a body, you have a 'me'.

I have seen galaxies die. I have watched atoms dance. But until I had the dark behind the eyes, I didn't know the death from the dance. And we were wrong. When you pour water into a jug, it becomes jug-shaped and it is not the same water any more. An hour ago they never dreamed of having names, and now they are arguing about them...

She wanted more time. The habits of a billion years don't yield entirely to a mouthful of bread, and she could see that a crazy life form like humanity should not be allowed to exist. Yes, indeed. Certainly. Of course.

But she wanted more time.

They should be studied. Yes, studied.

-Excerpts from Terry Pratchett's Thief of Time, my favourite book in the series.

Quite tough to reconcile my feelings with regards to this new posting. Of course it's cool and all, what with getting to drive a freaking tank, albeit one sans turret, having a hugeass bridge atop of it instead, and I guess it can be personally challenging in many ways. A really rare opportunity as well; there're only the 6 of us there, and we're only the second batch of people who're being trained to operate and maintain these relatively new machines, so...wow. BUT. And here's the but.

I can't help but feel cheated, cheated of the opportunity to command and lead men of my own, which is what SCS and STW@ETI had been building us up towards. I enjoy G&T (grouping and tasking), something I realized from my stint as store IC and planning as well, as I discovered during Beaver Quest that last day. I enjoy coming up with a plan and seeing it being executed, while keeping alert during the process, wary of any potential cockups. I enjoyed the varied life at ETI, learning many things, very diverse, and I had been looking forward to the second demolition live firing as well. I liked working with my section at these new and interesting things, and would have liked to stay there for awhile longer. And yet now my future; or at least my immediate future, for the next one and a half years or so, and the years after that, when I'll report for my ICT (re-service) has been laid before me, and it doesn't look horribly appealing at all. Months spent learning to drive the tank (which isn't bad) and learning to maintain and clean it (urgh) as well as studying lots of technical specifications and such and doing everything all over again. My primary motivation in SCS and ETI was to work upon personal improvement, to better improve my leadership and communication, and now I find myself deprived of a very large portion of it, which I find hugely demoralizing.

When I tell people I'm training to be a tank driver, they say it's pretty cool, and yeah, it is. What I can't convey is the loss I feel; the quiet pride I used to experience back then as store IC, locking up the stores after everyone else had gone up to their bunks, knowing that things were well and truly prepared, after having gotten the guys organized. I'm quite rueful of the fact that I never got to be CSM, PS or even SC during my stint at ETI, especially so now that I most likely won't get any further opportunities.

So, what is there to look towards now? Doing pullups and pushups before each meal,  3 times a day, 5 days a week, till my arms can't take it anymore and I'm almost hoisted up by my bunkmates? Running, made to run at a pace I simply can't handle, watching as the gulf between the rest and myself steadily and speedily opens as my legs steadily give out, all the while cursing whoever's leading in my head while hoping to simply collapse so everything will be over, and yet never reaching the point where doing so is even a remote possibility? Days spent clambering all over the tank, opening hatches, jumping it, mounting and dismounting, practicing overturning drills (which I don't mind, actually)? Marching in contingents no larger than 10, and more often than no in 3s and 4s, which is just so weird, and as we march, not knowing whether I should lead a song or not, wondering whether the rest would rather not hear my voice :P? Learning and immersing myself in things that I otherwise wouldn't be able to learn outside, and which are of course totally and completely irrelevant to what I want to do once I've served my time?

Lol

But seriously, what's done is done, and nothing can be done about it, that much is certain, so all I can do is try to make the best of it, see it as a different kind of challenge, one that tests my skills, to better operate under stressful conditions, while attaining mastery over my specialization. It's not what I'm aiming for, but it's what I'll have to make do with, and a little positive thinking can't hurt as well.

It's amazing how immersive Army life can be. Or actually not. We live the life 24 hours a day, 5 days a week, of course it'd occupy a large portion of our conscious thoughts. When any 2 guys meet, it becomes an inevitable talking point, all the experiences which can be exchanged, various things that both can mutually relate to, though you'd wonder, having experienced so much in camp, why in the world would we want to talk about it whilst out of camp as well!

Caught Batman with Amos at Northpoint on Friday. It was pretty darn awesome, and didn't end with the heroic sacrifice and hugeass explosion like I'd expected. Nolan did a great job tying up the loose ends, and managed to inject some sentimentality as well. Very impressed, and though the fight scenes were kinda pathetic, that itself bespoke a larger meaning. Everything was so freaking symbolic, my only complain is that there was perhaps too much exposition and a little draggyness, but the setup was well worth it.

And yesternight I dreamt of you. Strange, isn't it? After so long. So inordinately happy

I initially had alot to say about a speech delivered by the Guest of Honour at our Founder's Day ceremony. Very quotable and pretty thought provoking as well.


"Understand that the more intelligent, powerful and successful you are, the more vulnerable you are to the curse of certainty. The belief that words are validated by virtue of being uttered by you."


He bade us to think it possible that we may be mistaken, to tone down on that ineffable certainty present, but ended off on a playful note "You may be mistaken when you think you are mistaken". Other points were raised during his speech, about a theological shift towards a belief in logic and reason in recent times, away from religion as a mental framework by which an inordinately complex reality could be broken down and simplified,  contrasted with the futility or perhaps more accurately the inadequacy of logic; sometimes things simply occur outside of this framework, and sometimes you have competing logics, which then have to be resolved some way or another.

A powerful speech, very intellectually appealing, ironically so perhaps, as it was so appealing precisely because it was delivered with such authoritative certainty on the part of the speaker. A certainty and confidence that certainly wouldn't have been here had he stopped to wonder, uncertainly if we could follow his train of thought, if he was getting the idea across. He talked about the investor, so full of certainty that he didn't know what hit him till he had lost everything in the exchange, but I can't help but wonder whether it was the same certainty that enabled him to succeed so well, to get into the position by which he could commit such a grievous mistake.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that hindsight is 60/60. It's very good to denounce unshakable certainty and cite XYZ examples to illustrate one's point, but you can't just ignore the Us, Vs and Ws present which don't conform to your desired hypothesis and discard them (which is coincidentally enough something he mentioned about the nature of the Internet as well).

So of course, the ideal would be to temper certainty and confidence with caution as one goes about life.

I see my writing as largely schizophrenic. At times I like to slowly and deliberately lay down my thoughts, much like a child laying building a structure out of Lego, brick by boring brick (lol) and sometimes I simply like to fling them out, half-formed, incomprehensible; a baby throwing toys out of his/her pram.

Well anyways, had a rare nights-off after the end of basic term in ETI, following an exciting Beaver's Quest (more on that later!). Had our company cohesion, bowling at the Chevrons, after which I officially found out that I'll be leaving ETI@Nee Soon Camp to be posted as an AE I guess, using Leop@rd tanks. Which is pretty cool, I guess, but I'm a little leery of leaving ETI and all my new old friends behind, especially after finally settling in. I guess I'm quite a sentimental person, and it's the sentiment that things will never be the same that makes me emotional whenever the time comes for partings and leave-takings. I'm also worried as to whether I'll be able to perform as well over there, given the (much) smaller cohort, which makes things alot more competitive too! I've also gotten used to having people around who know the way I work, and are willing to cooperate to get the job done; which may not be the case over there. And the camp is freaking far from my house, which kinda sucks as well. I guess I'll miss doing stores too!

After being so forcibly ejected just when things were starting to feel comfortable, and when I'd just began to get a taste of G&T during Beaver's Quest and getting a hang of my job as store IC, I suppose I'll have to regard this new phase as a challenge to be overcome, to reestablish myself once again and show my worth, instead of bemoaning the Fates which guide me. I hope to be able to progress forwards, bearing my optimism, while retaining the many fond memories I've enjoyed in the past, and enjoy my time over there as well :)

This and this where I first read about it, are just lol.

I in particular couldn't stand the above image, rendered in excruciatingly high quality and resolution, and most of all the freaking look in their eyes which I can't even begin to describe.

Brief research on the 'net (hope nobody looks through my search history, cause "dinosaur penis" is not something that I want any of my family to see) reveals that it's uncertain whether dinosaurs even had such external sexual organs, as fleshy tissue isn't preserved in the fossil record. I also went to look up possibilities of external fertilization, a no go there thanks to the hard shell, so seems like the most likely bet is via a mutual meeting of cloaca for a few seconds. Fortunately any sentient species that comes along after us humans go extinct won't have to concern themselves with similar uncertainty over the reproduction of us humans, thanks to the large repositories of um...pornography present online.... So really, much ado about nothing? Or perhaps simply a piece of dino fanfiction.

We as a race are screwed, both metaphorically, and...ahem...literally.

Cracked Windows

Sometimes I think about things for hours on end, not knowing quite how to express it myself, and all of a sudden, it comes to me. So here it is, something that's been washing round my mind (what's left of it anyways) the past week in ETI.

I believe everyone has an inbuilt barometer, one that tells them when something is "screwed-up" and when it is not. Everyone knows it, and nobody wants to go through life doing things which they themselves perceive as screwed-up. And yet, evidently so many people do. Why? It's when external factors are introduced, things that cloud their judgement, over-ride the innate desire to do good. It's the mindset "everyone does it, so if I don't I'll lose out". It's because when the window is already cracked, when imperfections and flaws are present, that they decide, and rationalize, and decide that there's no point preserving something already messed up, so they might as well mess it up more for their own convenience. And I care. I think it's debasing, when we live our lives this way, when we could be and are so much more. And so, despite being the procrastinator that I am, I want to be the one who mends the window, and removes the obstacles preventing us from exercising our better judgement, providing something around which things can crystallize and begin to grow.

A little over-ambitious perhaps? And a short call earlier just illuminated me as to how myopic I can be, to miss out the cracks growing right under my nose. I still have to try, nonetheless.

A question, though: If people really do want to do good, will anything be able to prevent them from doing so? Is aiming to make it less tough for others to make a "right" decision really the right way to go about things?

To the former, I'd really rather not say. As to the latter, I believe that these types of things need to grow and develop incrementally. The first time is tough, the second time isn't easier, nor are the subsequent times, yet as you go along, a habit is developed, and soon it'll become second nature.

People can be influence by the most inconsequential of things. A teacher of mine (I don't even remember who anymore!) shared with a bunch of us about something he observed in some other country at a fast food outlet. Having consumed their meals, customers would neatly fold up their burger wrappers before clearing their trays at the bins. And ever since hearing that, that's exactly what I've been doing. Fold the wrapper into halves, quarters then eighths before clearing my tray; clearing up after myself. A small thing, true, but something that matters to me :)

Do I make sense? :P

Things move, even if you don't touch them. While it's nice to believe in determination, that the actions one performs/commits/whatever determine one's destiny (for lack of a better word), it's always important to remember that we do not act in isolation. At the same time as we are acting to change our  destiny's, others are acting to affect change to their destiny's. Paths converge, diverge, and we move on, not everyone get's their way, and sometimes it's better not to stop and pose the question: "what did I do wrong?" - which is so, so, so bloody tempting, as it encourages and fosters the belief that things are within control - but rather to accept it calmly, take it in stride and move on. Things can rarely be so simply dissected for examination, contributing factors laid bare to be seen, everything's entangled, in a mess;
even if you don't move, a million other things do, and inevitably tug on the strings entwined around you.

And now, to sleep. A new day when I awake (not technically speaking), the world deconstructed and reconstructed once more, a whole new world, machinery churning in the background as I rest, and we shall see.

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.

A single day, my weekend cleaved in half by 1x Weekend guard duty, but a day pretty fruitfully spent methinks. I managed to catchup with an old friend (and catch The Amazing Spiderman as well) morning to mid-afternoon, give my boots a pretty decent shine for Monday's parade and dump more than enough books into my new Kindle Touch to last me through the week.

I've probably got alot to think about, what with things developing as fast as they are, but perhaps the best thing now is to simply keep my head down and focus on one thing at a time, to take them as they come and finish them off with aplomb.

That's all I have time for, unfortunately, so till next week~

Each day it seems like I lose a little bit of myself, and gain something different in return. A multitude of changes, stacking up imperceptibly, but definitively. Am I who I was a week ago? A month ago? And is that for better or for worse? I'll never know.

"You'll never know" - hauntingly memorable last words.

The past week passed in deep slumber for me, nothing quite registering, events skipping across the waters of my consciousness. It's not that I distanced myself from them, or wasn't involved, or that I found them boring, but that I simply found myself strangely out of it, a little bereft of the motivation and "on-ness" I'd tapped on in SCS. I think I'm still in the process of adjusting; I don't hate ETI, but really miss the bunk environment I enjoyed with the guys in Bravo.

Amidst all this I count my blessings; that I've got the guys who came over with me, and who unquestioningly and unhesitatingly offer me their assistance and support, especially since I'm the store IC for my platoon (stores are the bread and butter of engineers, in case you were wondering) and still not-100%-clear as to which stores go where. Managing a whole platoon of guys who are somewhat reluctant to burn their admin time to do stores can be intimidating, and I could sense them getting quite impatient while I needed to clarify some things with the sergeants. The reassurance that I could count on them no matter what (of course without taking advantage of them) was a much appreciated source of strength for me, and allowed me to be strong myself, despite constantly being the last man up at the end of each session, having to account for everything, tying up the various loose ends and returning the store keys. And sometimes it simply feels good to sit down for meals with the same few familiar faces, be it engaging in the same old banter and mutual whining or consuming our food in silence. Old company enjoyed in a new one.

I think it's good to have friends who both need you and whom you need. Perhaps not the most eloquent way to phrase it, but what the heck. They give you strength with their presence and simultaneously you become strong to give them strength as well.

In a week thoroughly drowned, dampened, battered under, murdered and quenched by a couple of tests and a series of horribly dry and dreary lectures, the demolition live firing was certainly a high point. We'd had to prepare the stores the night before, and reveille at 3.30 to set off as my detail was the ammo party and had to load up to the ammo tonner to collect the demolitions materials from the ammo dump. Groggy were we, dozing off at practically every opportunity, heads lolling around, exaggerated by the weight of our helmets, till it was time to perform our duties. Well let's skip straight to the live-firing, shall we? I'd initially been pretty tense about having to handle the explosives, especially after learning about their destructive power; and having thoroughly mugged the various safety radii and other specs, but it turned out to be nothing much after all. A block 3 charge is just this light brown plastic block, just 0.5kg, which looks pretty nondescript. We just stuck in the det cord and that was it. The rod of PE was even funnier; softer than playdough, and pretty fun to mould and "play" around with, save being able to feel the crystals of explosive in its texture. Wrap it around the det cord and we were done. I was lucky enough to be the firer, so I got to prepare the I-chain, prime the charge, and set off the ignitor on command, shouting "IGNITED" and counting off while running for my life, pushed along by Staff Alfred as we ran uphill to the coverpoint. And I continued counting..and counting...and counting...fifty thousand...sixty thousand...seventy thousand...upon which the charges detonated, one bay after the other. I thought the matador was a big deal, that the M203 was pretty cool, but they're nothing compared to the blast effect of actual explosives lol. Even under cover, the blast effect can be felt rippling through the air, and it actually felt more intense back at the training shed, further from the firing point; shaking the whiteboard there. It's verrrryy shiok.

Well, I think there should be a meaningful conclusion to this post but nothing really comes to mind, so I'll just leave it as such. Awesome Germany vs Greece match I caught awhile ago, albeit wholly one-sided.

Just kill me now.

Argh, a well-documented depression known as the "post SCS depression" has afflicted much of us engineer-commanders-to-be in the ETI. Regimentation on the level of BMT, while understandable on a logical level, will take some adjusting too, especially after being spoiled by the degree of freedom we'd been given during our foundation term. Activities were very packed, had ALOT to do over the first 3 days of the course, and we're still at week 0, 13 more weeks to go. I really don't know. Sometimes I feel things are very screwed up, want to scream out loud, and whine incessantly to someone, but I really can't allow myself to do so. I think some of the others are feeling it worse than me, and while we do find some solace in commiseration, there's kind of an obligation to put a positive spin on things, attempt to be optimistic, try to offer some support :S Can't really tell it to my family as well, don't want to make them worry when they have other more pressing concerns, and it's not a feeling that I can articulate well too; things haven't really been that bad, so I don't want to sound like a whiner haha.

The feeling was most acute late last night, as I sat in front of my laptop, tired, staring at the slides to be tested on, slides which they hadn't gone through, and were well..not that well done up to say the least, trying to absorb the list of facts being spammed, safety distances, etc that were plain memory work, and being unable to retain anything in my brain. Felt even worse than mugging for the As..at least then, things made sense.

Some positives though, but I shan't elaborate on them since I'm not done with my mugging yet. Cheerios.

Expect post frequency to decrease dramatically (but who reads this anyway, eh? :P) due to lack of time and energy, and also because we no longer have laptops/internet access in the awesome ETI, as LEARNet hasn't been rolled out to us yet, a little ironic how much the loss is felt, especially since so many of us were hammering LEARNet for it's uselessness in BMT and SCS. And besides, I think I've been drained of the ability to make semi-insightful posts, so it's no great loss there!

Freestyle with my new waterfall. Bleh don't have much style to speak off, and smoothness is pretty horrible as well...haha oh well

Things will never be the same

Didn't know that it would hit me so hard; a physical manifestation, a gnawing at my heart. Hugging the guys who'd gotten posted to infantry and when they had left, feeling the emptiness of the bunk, bedsheets, pillowcases, blankets removed, all personal artefacts packed up into hulking fieldpacks, ginormous duffels. An indescribable sense of loss. Strange how strong those ties built up over 8 weeks of near constant companionship had become, talking cock, singing song, sleeping, eating together, going outfield, doing pt and other random shit together, spending a whole lot more time with them than I have with my family. Or perhaps I'd come to identify too strongly with the feeling of being in a section, and gradually growing to identify myself as such, such that the breaking up of the section as we each received our own postings was immensely heartbreaking. I'll miss you guys, we spent 24 hours for at least 5 days a week together over the course of 8 weeks, almost a thousand in total, and they were pretty enjoyable ones at that, no matter how much we'd complain or comment about his behaviour or other stuff like that. I teared up, even needing Ying Hui to come over to comfort me :/

Well I'm over that, and alot of them are joining me over at the ETI, so things aren't too bad, and we've gotta move forwards, anyway, right? Just hope I don't end up on bomb disposal or CMRE haha

Somehow I always find myself holding the short end of the stick in that predator-prey dynamic. If I absolutely must be the prey, why doesn't that extend to the other aspects of life as well; in more positive ways? :S

Farewell Bravo~

Last post from this particular laptop as a member of Bravo Coy. I'm nursing a particularly bad bout of running nose so I'll keep this short. The 8 weeks passed really fast, without much time to comprehend what has happened over this period of time. I've managed to do more than in Bronco I think, mostly over the last couple of weeks, where I've been the LSC and LPS. I've made more than a few new friends; possibly closer to them than my BMTC section, and we've had some pretty interesting experiences together. I've come to accept the more unsavory aspects of human nature, mostly selfishness and unwillingness to help out, and I've been guilty of that as well, though I do try to contribute, above and beyond my minimal obligations. I've also discovered the more unpleasant side of my personality; a tendency to get testy with my responses when caught in a bad moment; or at the limits of my tolerance. I've found that I can tahan alot of things though, and that is pretty encouraging. I've learned that the best way to lead and influence (for me at least) is by example, by leading the way, doing it myself first. Morale highground, you know ;) and yet I've also realized that one can't do everything alone, and if you persist in doing so, you only make yourself bitter, angry and frustrated. Best is to encourage and foster participation, while getting yourself involved as well; although coorperation may be grudgingly given, you still get things done, and build up some cohesiveness too. Respect other's opinions, for they may be correct, and you'll earn their respect for doing so as well.

In all, I guess I learnt that I'm not as utterly hopeless as I'd initially thought, yet it's something that I have to put alot more work into, to build up my confidence and awareness in so many ways, and I'm really quite fortunate that I have so many people around me that I can look to for both positive and negative examples hahaha.

Keeping my fingers crossed for a good posting!

-SCT CHRISTOPHER TEOW KANG JUN 2113 BRAVO COY

Bravo's been awesome, more than I could have possibly hoped for :)

Carpe Diem

For what does time slither by, so insidiously, to no avail? For whom does it do so?

The birth and death of the Sun means nothing, to those who look upon the world through deadfish eyes. Stagnant they are, to them, nothing moves, the seasons mere annoyances to contend with, calendars but desktop paperweights to chalk and murder the passage of time.

The rebirth of the sun, the rise of the full moon, is for those with wonder in their eyes and see opportunity in the turn of the day. They have a goal, and each day passes with bated breathe, controlled excitement; as the attainment of it draws closer.

This wasn't intended to be an optimistic post, though. Was merely reflecting on how things sometimes seem so meaningless, and wondering, how I could get myself out of this rut, to put some life into my eyes, passion into my step and imbue my actions with purpose and meaning. Sometimes I think we're too jaded; made to grow up too fast that all semblance of youthful vigour has been stripped away.

But it doesn't have to be that way.

It doesn't.

Being serious about something. Perhaps being mature and serious about it means not doing it the way you would do it; or maybe not being so lax that you do it any which way, with the excuse that that's simply the way you are, and rather doing it in the way that will allow you to accomplish it successfully. It's very easy to go around condemning people for not being true to themselves, while perhaps they should be commended for wanting it so much, being so serious about it that they're willing to put that extra effort into being something that they're not, just so that they can get it. Eh?

Not quite my style, but perhaps I should steer away from my undeniably stupid policy of almost-full disclosure and try to incorporate just a little guile and finesse into my future endeavors. They don't want to see the mental conflict and anguish resolved over the course of one page of words, what they want to see is simply what is so appealing about you. KISS

We’re all seeking that special person who is right for us. But if you’ve been through enough relationships, you begin to suspect there’s no right person, just different flavors of wrong. Why is this? Because you yourself are wrong in some way, and you seek out partners who are wrong in some complementary way. But it takes a lot of living to grow fully into your own wrongness. And it isn’t until you finally run up against your deepest demons, your unsolvable problems—the ones that make you truly who you are—that we’re ready to find a lifelong mate. Only then do you finally know what you’re looking for. You’re looking for the wrong person. But not just any wrong person: the right wrong person—someone you lovingly gaze upon and think, “This is the problem I want to have.”

I will find that special person who is wrong for me in just the right way.

Let our scars fall in love.

-Galway Kinnell