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 ><

A Year On

It's the 1 year mark. Looking back, I suppose I've come a long way from that first day, boarding the Penguin to sunny Tekong "resort" for the very first time. I've changed, as I've commented so many times, and yet some parts remain the same, as I'm made aware of (painfully so) at times.

I'm experiencing a fair bit of nostalgia, reviewing the events of the past year; not the year 2012 but rather the year in NS, though the two seem irretractably linked in my mind. It's been eventful, to say the least; most marked was the transition from civilian to soldier, the giving up of many personal freedoms, epitomized at that time by the surrendering of my pink IC (oh how I miss you, messed up fringe in the pic and all) and receiving the 11B in return, a horrible trade in all ways. Regimentation and discipline-wise, I remember how crappy I was at my drills at first, and simply getting used to staying and sharing my life with many other guys, and dealing with so many competing egos. It was always a pain to arrange my stuff to pretty exacting standards, and being made to conform was (and still is) an uncomfortable feeling. Learning weapon handling, live-firings, outfield, receiving that letter which I'll never forget, that desperate shellscrape day, that horrible night atop the hill in the middle of a lightning storm torrential rain, huddled together for comfort, that triumphant passing out parade, all memorable.

Life's different nowadays, now that it's settled into the pace of normalcy, and it's gotten...dare I say...unexciting? And a little laborious at times too. At this 1 year milestone, I find myself perhaps inevitably counting down the weeks as they pass, every Friday's a blessing, and while Sunday night is a little disappointing, we're that much closer to those revered three letters. I find it a little sad that I don't look forward to much anymore, but an interesting side effect is that without something to look forward to, I find myself looking at things alot closer, making my private observations, taking notes. It's interesting and enlightening, sometimes heartening, others depressing, but a useful little exercise nonetheless xP It's for such things I guess that I'm not writing off the next 10 months altogether, so on with it!

To be very frank though, I've too easily let myself be completely absorbed into the NS life, often to the point of neglecting all thought of what's happening outside, as well as letting certain events dictate my mood. Working on maintaining a balance between distancing myself and doing a good job will be the main task for the remaining 45% :)

Life's settled into a steady rhythm, set to the ticking of the clock, the passing of days in fives and twos, week after week. I find it surprising how much my mood varies between days. Frustration to calm acceptance, as I am now. It's probably cause I'm still off the back of a pretty decent-ish weekend, and who knows where the tide will bring me tomorrow, but I'm fine, for now.

Saturday was the quiet dinner with friends, followed by pool and a drink at a bar. First time I've ever stepped into one, I was a little apprehensive at first, the music seemed too loud, blasting through the entrance and I balked for a second or so, before following Amos in to a table right beside the 'stage' in the center of everything. It felt really comfortable amidst the general chatter, nice to chill over a (pricey!) drink and take in the general atmosphere. Quite fun to pore over the menu as well, and ponder over the more interestingly named concoctions.

Sunday was subdued, run of the mill but not unenjoyable. I even enjoyed the ride back to camp, over some light talk with my bro and mum, and now, Monday, here we go again.

It's a life held in stasis I suppose I don't blog much nowadays cause there doesn't seem much to blog about. Life in camp has adopted the tone of work, work, work, though there are the occasional highlights and such, it somehow seems a little strange to write about them here. But of course that's what I'll do now, to get some stuff out of my system.

I find myself running around a lot nowadays, doing all sorts of random stuff that don't even justify noting down, and it does get a little testing at times. I still remember running around 38 for the freaking unit stocktaking, even bringing the guy all the way down to ATI and back again, simply to catch a glimpse of the tank and bridge that were parked there for the display, then going back and forth between the base, our tank shed at the other end of the unit and down to D801 (the 3 are kinda situated like the points of huge triangle) back and forth, back and forth to confirm this thing or the other, incredibly dreary, horrible weather, while nursing a cold, and on a Friday no less. Then doing something similar this week, except I had to open the tanks for him to check some components inside. After clambering in and out once, he refused to enter the rest so I had to unlock the tank, open the hatch, climb in and number off each item to him while he stood outside waiting, which is pretty much tokenism at it's best. I could have simply said everything was there and I bet he wouldn't have even bothered to verify it lol. Low-loading to bring our tank and bridge over to Nee Soon Camp for the change of command parade wasn't too bad though. It's (for now) a pretty novel experience and I always enjoy any opportunity to operate the L2 and test my proficiency; admittedly to my detriment on occasion when I find myself not up to scratch. Simply put, low-loading is to launch the bridge in package mode onto a lowbed (those things used to transport cars) and to reverse the tank onto another as well, so it's quite interesting to see how to ensure that the alignment with the lowbed is just right so it can be done successfully. Friday was the parade rehearsal itself (we'd previously had a rehearsal for the rehearsal at our coy-line itself, which I find patently hilarious), so we got up early, drew our arms in Gedong, took a bus - which arrived late and hence totally wasted our early reveille - over to Nee Soon, apparently it didn't matter that we arrived late cause the rehearsal hadn't even started yet, where we proceeded with the rehearsal. Um..I mean rehearsalS. It just went on and on and on, and it was hilarious in a perverse sense to see them try it out with different parade commanders, contingent commanders etc, and to watch the parade commander (a major) salute a master sergeant who was standing in as the fake CoA. Freaking funny. More of a joke though to see those who obviously hadn't  rehearsed the commands, or those up on the stage who were treating it like a game of sorts, playing at who'd get to "be" the CoA or incoming outgoing Chief Engineers next, with no regard for those of us working on our tan in the parade square. The spectacle ended at 1730, but since the bus was indented only for 1900, which couldn't be pushed earlier, we had to hang around. And hang around somemore, cause apparently the bus broke down (the driver didn't check that he had enough diesel apparently, and got stuck somewhere) until we eventually left Nee Soon at 2000. You'd think that was the end of it, but nope, we had to return to Gedong once more to send our weapons before getting changed and finally being allowed to bookout at 2120.

The strange thing is that I'm already numb to all of this. Back in BMT, SCS and even ETI, weekends were something precious and to be treasured. Bookout timings were sacrosanct and we'd do anything to have them as early as possible. Perhaps now after a year as a soldier, I don't really give a shit anymore. Or maybe we're so used to this kind of crap happening that we don't give it a second thought. You just do it (TM Nike) and if things don't turn out well, well, that's just too bad. Complaining has been patently useless so why bother? It scares me somewhat, cause I seem to have lost something vital. That little spark which would speak up when I saw something obviously wrong. It might seem to be a good thing but I don't think it has been very healthy for me. I can't quite articulate it clearly but there's this frustration that builds up within me, when I have to accept things as naturally being shitty and myself being able to do nothing about it. It accumulates within the numbness, contradictory though it may sound, and I find myself getting more sensitive to the most innocuous of things and harbouring certain negative thoughts in my head. If army has thought me one thing, it's how susceptible I am to my more emotional/primitive side, despite what the rational portion may claim.

And I'm just going round and round in circles, little little circles, and I'm not quite sure how to break out. I want to rediscover the freshness of life, the fascination and basic appreciation of the most mundane things. I try to be thankful for the things I have, and I really am, but I think what I crave the most is stimulation of some kind, not just the frustrating work-related interactions, or the casual hi-bye let's talk bout how shag the day has been, or listening to the reasoning of the self-absorbed, maybe that's it. And I can try to numb myself with meaningless stimuli, manga, games, not-so-sophisticated literature, but that doesn't help much at all. It doesn't help much but I'll do it anyway I guess, for reasons I honestly know not why.

PS In my extended hiatus I seem to have lost whatever little creative flair I possessed so please do pardon me in my attempts to rediscover it.

Till then~

New year resolutions (to be edited as I go along):

1. To fulfill and discharge my role as a spec with some modicum of pride and accountability, cause that's the least I can do
2. To reach that precious 301113 without any further incidents, to have a safe and smooth ORD
3. To improve my fitness, generally speaking my current condition is unacceptable.
4. To persevere in the face of adversity, and to react to it not with frustration but polite resistance.
5. To be persistent in pursuing my interests without dragging my feet. 

2012

A little late for reflections, but here they are:

2012 was a crazy year, the first out of school after so long, but no less uneventful, and no less educational.

NS was of course the highlight of the year, and it was honestly a very eye-opening experience, where I lost much of my naivete. Of course I always knew that people thought differently, worked differently etc but unlike prior experience where it was always possible to find some common ground; a shared motivation for that A (or maybe RI peeps just aren't so diverse after all) there was none. And I realized how tough it can be to work against such inertia, as well as how tempting it is to get sucked up in it as well. It really can be quite frustrating. I ran into a pretty interesting type of personality too. While in BMT and SCS I got very familiar with the kind of person who's perfectly contented to sit back and let you do all the dirty work, secure in the knowledge that none of it mattered to them the slightest bit, there's a special kind of person who's unwilling to let that happen. For some reason or another, it makes them feel insecure to see you putting in so much effort - maybe they think it makes them look bad or something, I wouldn't know - and yet they aren't willing to compete by raising the bar. So they seek to neutralize you, pull you down with them, in many subtle ways, by being discouraging, disparaging, diminishing and trying to neuter your capability. It's good I guess, to know that such people exist, and see them for what they are. They aren't bad people by any means, which is why it's so hard to deal with them sometimes, and it's caused me to lose my cool on a couple of occasions.

It may sound like I've gone paranoid, and in some way I suppose I have. I'm much less inclined to give people the benefit of doubt nowadays, I'm less patient and much more likely to get frustrated too, though I may not always show it. I've changed, in so many ways that a complete catalog of them is not only impossible, but also futile, as I find that I still am.

The first few months of NS were a whirlwind of activity, so many new faces popping up here and there, and having met so many people within such a relatively short period of time, I'm really treasuring my friends, both those that I had, and those friendships newly forged. It's not an easy thing, and sometimes it's completely incidental. Some people you may spend months with yet may be unable to hit it off with, and others you gel with in weeks. I'm glad to say I made friends who I honestly and truly love, friends who I can freely share my thoughts with. I'll forever miss those carefree nights in bunk, just sitting round HTHT-ing. It's quite disheartening then, to see how we've fallen apart having gone our separate ways after SCS, and there never seems to be the time to catch up, and I can't help but feel that even if we do, things will never be the same. I feel immensely fortunate to have held onto some friends amidst all this change, Jack Amos Angie Merv, I can't say how happy I am that we still go out ever so often, and how thankful I am that you're around to make fun of me when I take myself too seriously. Sometimes when we're together I find myself quiet at moments, wondering how long it can last, but that's hardly the correct mindset to have in awesome company, so I try to banish it quickly. I'm of course incredibly thankful to my family for all the support and understanding they've given me, and for above all, giving me somewhere to come back to, after a possibly shitty week in camp. Every week, without fail, my mum and dad brave an hour long round trip to send me to camp, it's a huge pain but they don't say anything about it. Sometimes I take it way too fore-granted and it needs reminding.

Mention must be made of how I screwed up some relationships by being overeager, and others by being overly cold. Some things once done can't be taken back, no matter how much you regret them; there's only so much spilled milk you can lap up, and it'll taste foul no matter what you do, so I can only move on from here and behave more maturely. NYJSIUTK

 A year on from the As, I find it striking how little my results actually matter to me. I know it's unfair to say so especially given how I did, but that's simply how it seems. Of course I was elated when I got them, but following my rejection by NUS I seem to have lost all sense of direction in that regard. I know that there's something beyond NS, however with my eyes laid upon the weeks stretching before me, I can't quite see past them with any great certainty. But it's always easier to dawdle and dither at the same spot without taking action, so this year I'll be more proactive, make myself more involved and see where that brings me.

S.A.F: Shit Always Falls

And oh boy is it glorious when it does.

And now, after so long, we're 6 once more. I haven't been able to get down to that post, but we'll just have to see how things go.

I somehow feel like a thief in the night, sitting in the dark in my bedroom to catch my share of early morning football.

Anyway, I'll be off to Malacca in abit, so don't call me! I promise I'll do up a proper post when I get back, just in time for the New Year reflections kinda spirit :)

The good thing about life is that it's just the right length: It's long enough for you to swallow your regrets yet not so long that you shouldn't treasure every moment of it.