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...

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.'

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'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