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Thursday, 11 November 2010

Escapism

I dread Taiwan's training, mostly because I am sick of seeing the faculty instructors in charge of us. I experience this low, swooping feeling when I see them. One has too much imagination; the other just talks too much to attract attention.

Yesterday marks the beginning of a low weekend before we fly. I kind of wasted today doing nothing, planted in front of the computer all day. I think I have a computer addiction. It saps my energy and time, and at the end of the day I accomplish nothing.

I kind of dread the R&R too, because I don't know who I am going with during free and easy. I am envious of Jet and Loke 'cause they just chum together. To think that I spent the last two months in a depression. Each passing day I toyed with the idea of visiting the medical officer, but of course I did not do it, for fear of being charged for malingering. It seems like everything is a chargeable offence.

Recently a closer bunkmate dropped out of the course due to back injury. He has come so far, and out of all the guys in my bunk I feel closer to him. My morale certainly took a beating.

Sometimes I wished I were never born.
I realised that I tend to do two things when I am stressed/sad:
1) Eat a lot.
2) Spend a lot.

(Previous) fulfilled/unfulfilled food wishlist:
- Nissin cup noodles
- Shihlin chicken cutlet
- Bobo chacha
- Random Macs EVM
- Teh si siew dai
- SME

Impossible wishlist:
- Casio Exilim Ex-FC100
- Canon PowerShot S95
- Leica V-Lux 20
- Nokia N79
- Nokia C5

Saturday, 6 November 2010

Sunday, 31 October 2010

Grandslammed

Arcanewolf has remarked that I should clear some of the moodiness here since I wasn't feeling moody so much anymore. Actually I'm not sure, especially today, since it's a bloody Sunday and I have to book in half an hour earlier than usual. :/

Home-d after booking out at 4pm yesterday. Was not as tired as I expected myself to be after field camp; had expected to spend more time with my own bed but couldn't sleep in this morning. Just couldn't get back to dreamland after 6.30am and went to get some McDonald's. So uhh, yeah! McDonald's. The Monopoly thing is on again and I am kidding myself that I have a chance of winning that SGD80,000!

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

I was just thinking about my army life so far and I realised that ever since I became a conscript I've only heard things like:

"Eh dun blur!"
"C***B** (all in block letters)! WTF are you doing?!"
"Eh you know what you are doing anot?!"
"Eh you know what to do anot??"
"F*** you la flexible! Follow the f***ing drill can anot?!"
"Vincent can you see the enemy?! Shoot la c***b**!!"
"Eh f*** la! Throw properly can?!"
"Use your brain can anot?!"
"Where is your common sense?!"
"Aim and shoot la c***b**!"


It's kind of screwed up when you are putting in the effort and you are still getting screwed from all directions. It happened so frequently that I don't even bother nowadays. I was rather enthusiastic in BMT, still alright in Foundation Term, until Professional term. All the screaming and shouting, and the dirty looks people shoot you assuming that you are not putting in effort. It hurts the most when people think you are not putting in effort; I just want to tell them I'm not cut out for this! I'm just too stupid for this and I have no cognitive ability in leading a group of six people to go rush the mountain. I don't know how long I can stand all this nonsense. All those instructors who don't admit their wrongdoing just make it all worse.

Damn I shouldn't have typed that it made my mood down for a while.

Anyway I'm trying to get myself to paint again, because at one point of time that was something I had confidence in. But I just get hooked on the computer playing CounterStrike, Medal of Honor, backyard monsters on facebook or just doing random facebook quizzes. Otherwise I would be out catching a movie and some lunch with friends.

Yeah and I wish I have more friends in pro term. I don't get along very well with my bunk guys because they saw how badly I fared in the simulated battlefield and think that I'm just a loser. The guys whom I know better have their own cliques now and I don't want to force myself into a crowd and try to mesh. Just thinking of this makes me not want to go Taiwan. :/ All the tiring missions! Imagine going R&R alone! Wtf!

ARGH I keep having these bubble of negative thoughts that wouldn't stop worming themselves into my cranium.

Recently I borrowed this book on card-making and I wanted to start doing some of the crafts, although doing this kind of thing doesn't seem very manly. But I felt cheered up all the same. Doing something related to art. :) Which reminds me of skyetch :) (skyetch.blogspot.com)
This is probably the least organised of my posts.

damn damn damn this probably doesn't sound like me eh? like my blogger account got hacked or something..

gotta go gotta go shower and pack. later still need to wash that god-damned iba.

wish i had more time. wish i was a clerk. wish i can stay out. wish i had better results. wish i were more optimistic......why am i so f-ed up wahahaha

maybe should start thinking about being a social entrepreneur. a part-time one. primary job is home decorator. yeah. that kind of thing. hobbies: painting, archery, reading, staying off the computer as much as i can.. that kind of life. yeah.

Saturday, 2 October 2010

80%

"And when you feel like giving up, think of the reason why you held on for so long."

And I don't know.

I don't know what's worth fighting for anymore.
And I feel that I'm suffocating.
The pain, physical and mental, it weighs out the pride. What is this pride that we talk ever so proudly of?
Everyday I hide myself in my camouflage cream/under my goggles/in the rain/beneath my helmet/behind my cupboard doors/behind my laptop screen, pretending that the teardrop is sweat/the result of dust in my eye.

Something in this heart has died, and I think it is care.

Tuesday, 28 September 2010

Depending on a can of Redondo

I haven't posted here in a while.

And I have promised myself not to post about my momentary fits of displeasure of living in this sometimes-disatisfactory world. I decided to break this promise; I also voluntarily broke a promise of calling home every night the first time yesterday night. What should I tell them? That I wake up every morning not knowing who I am, that being sad and demoralised is now a regular state of my mind, that I feel frightened before every outfield training or exercise, scared of that insane 12km fast march in under 90 minutes, afraid that I have to do a technical handling test in the breaks between the oncoming 32km route march, and having the knowledge that I am going to fail my SOC test when I have to take it? I never had so many fears before. And when I did, I laughed them off, suffered tough training, and came out laughing again.

I feel alone, in this latest chapter of my life, and for the first time, I don't like this loneliness. The loneliness of the last man lagging far behind his fitter colleagues, the loneliness of not knowing where to go when there is nights out, the loneliness of a person fighting the loneliness itself.

Every now and then I think back to my childhood days, and I felt that I have gone back to being the young boy who stood wide-eyed, alone, in the middle of a vegetable farm store, with two dollars stuffed into his inside pocket but not knowing what to do, while everyone else swarmed the cashier or displays and bought a little of this and a little of that. After what seems like an eternity an over-40 years old man walked up and squeezed two dollars into his small hand and walked him near a sweet corn store, laughing heartily and pointing out to him some vegetables on display...

I guess that didn't make much sense to anyone reading it, but it feels like a large part of my memory and it makes me recall that some of this loneliness I am experiencing now has always been a part of me.

I don't really know what made me post this, but I think I wanted to leave a journal behind that someone can refer to in case something happens to me. I am a soldier right now, accidents happen all the time. The only thing that's stopping me from quitting is my family now.

Friday, 27 August 2010

Eccentricity

Don't accept rides from strange men - and remember that all men are as strange as hell. ~Robin Morgan

These strange people around me; they puzzle me. And I am ever so concerned about their emotional well-being... They surround themselves in a state of unhealthy affairs - they taint their turf so, and they make the air unhygienic to inhale. They dissipate a negative aura.

For these sad and hungry men I offer my condolences and best attempts at empathy. I offer you a warm hand of encouragement. I will try to empower you with some optimism. But if you push us aside, rejection and dejection scrawled stubbornly on your face, again and again, I will lose my patience. And you will lose a friendship (not at face value, though). I will be a hypocrite and talk to you still, but these will be empty words.

I have been an immature, despicable and desolate soul. Allow me to backtrack to correct my mistakes. I shall preserve this orange element.

Sunday, 15 August 2010

Jackie Evancho

Man can she sing.

〈羡慕与陶醉当中〉

Monday, 9 August 2010

Aug 9 is a public holiday (and Aug 10 is payday)

At times I view with disgust what I have written here. Some things are so lame and '...what?'.

I try not to delete them so they would stay to remind me to write better. It is like the personal portfolio of an artist. All that you see in a gallery are masterpieces; great skill and effort went into each of them. But back at home there exists another gallery of broken, spoilt, screwed-up, incomplete, but mostly amateur works.

While revisiting I Wrote This For You, I saw this article from The Daily Maverick:

Yesterday, in South Africa, where I live, a journalist, who had recently written an article on corruption within the government, was picked up off the street by 6 police cars. He was whisked away, in an unmarked car, to an unknown location. His “questioning” started at 2:30am this morning.

As we write this, the exact whereabouts of Mzilikazi wa Afrika are still unknown. Erik van den Berg, lawyer for the Sunday Times, says they know he was booked into the Watervalboven police station at 5:30pm on Wednesday. Then he was booked out. He has not been booked in anywhere else in Mpumalanga. Needless to say, this uncertainty really gives this story the fear factor. No lawyer has yet been to see Wa Afrika. Is that what the country ruled by the “greatest liberation movement” in the world has come to? This is behaviour reminiscent of one of the worst kinds of government - the one we thought we had relegated to history in 1994.

Strangely, the spin side of “Operation Arrest Wa Afrika” has been much quicker. The Hawks' Musa Zondi (you ask why the Hawks were involved here - so do we) was on the radio, talking about Wa Afrika's arrest, claiming it was a normal operation and that the arrest had nothing to do with Wa Afrika's work as a journalist. Which then turned out not to be the case. In fact, he was arrested for receiving a fax that was supposedly Mpumalanga Premier David Mabuza's resignation letter to SA President Jacob Zuma. After the Sunday Times checked with the Presidency and they claimed never to have received it, editor Ray Hartley decided not to run the story and it was spiked.

Perhaps someone realised that public perception matters when you arrest a journalist in the same way you would a serial killer armed with automatic weapons and on the run. But the awareness of public perceptions didn't go far enough to arrange for Wa Afrika's appearance in court or to let him see a lawyer immediately. If they needed to ask him a few questions, couldn't they just have followed due process? No spin doctor in the world can fix such crude conduct.

Of course, none of that happened, and it is no surprise that the media is so concerned here. It took nearly 24 hours for police to even tell us where and if he would appear in court. And, according to Hartley, Wa Afrika’s interrogation began at 2:30 this morning - hardly a standard time to sit down for a chat with a journalist.

Of course, political reaction has been fascinating. Mabuza released a statement last night, at the witching hour, saying he welcomed the arrest which, he claimed, was further proof of a political conspiracy against him, and that Wa Afrika was a journalist who had ignored the gains being made in the province.

Mabuza's midnight statement told you all you needed to know about the province, and about how it’s governed.

It is clear that there is bad blood between Mabuza and Wa Afrika, and now it would appear that Mabuza has the journalist in his power. That may not be technically correct, as the police are run as a national “competence”, and officially premiers have no say and no power over them. But this leads us to the real issue.

The entire arrest, the outrage and anger that followed it and the giddy response from Mabuza all point to the same problem. The fact is that in this country the same people make decisions about who to arrest, which officers to use to do it, what to charge them with, and sometimes, it seems, who will do the judging. The checks and balances that are marks of a functioning democracy are simply not there.

In this country, Luthuli House decides how and who gets the power jobs in the civil service. The ANC decides who will head the police that will arrest a reporter and who will prosecute him. And we do know the nature of relationship between media on one side, and Bheki Cele and Menzi Simelane on the other.

The reaction also tells us another sad fact about our country. Your reaction to Wa Afrika's arrest will pretty much depend on your identity and whether you belong to the ANC or not. If you voted ANC, you’re probably pretty pleased that this rabble-rouser journalist who dissed your peeps is getting what he’s had coming to him. If you’re middle-class, educated and would consider voting for someone else, you’re bloody worried.

The reaction of the media is, naturally, more than just one of shared concern. For reporters and editors the sight of one of their own being bundled into a van by police officers with overwhelming force because of a story that is not even going to be run certainly looks like a sign of very bad times to come. The fact that it happened outside a building hosting a meeting of the SA National Editors’ Forum about defending media freedom can justifiably be seen as a crude attempt at intimidation.

To the older and greyer journalists' the developments of late, with the ANC hell-bent on railroading a raft of the laws through Parliament that will effectively muzzle the media and shield politicians behind even darker windows to keep them from public scrutiny, the Hollywood-style spectacular arrest of a journalist sounds way too familiar.

And we all thought it would never happen again.

Update: It is now understood that lawyers for the ST have finally been able to meet and speak to Wa Afrika. They have also been able to gave him a change of clothing. The lawyers are in discussion with the Nelspruit control prosecutor about a possible date and time of appearance and what charges he would face. Wa Afrika is now on his way to Kabokweni magistrates' court. By staff reporter. (Thursday, 12:20 SA time)

By Stephen Grootes

It is reiterated rather strongly that many Singaporeans often take for granted the safety and security of this tiny red dot. But let us make a rededication to our nation today; let us not forget the turbulences our nation had endured to get to the stable city it is today.

There are times when we feel dissatisfied. For example many of us probably feel much better if YOG 2010 is taking place in Moscow. It is ridiculous for motorists to have to give way to YOG vehicles. It is ridiculous that if they don't they will be fined S$130. It is ridiculous that S$387 million is being spent. It is ridiculous to think that YOG is going to affect our lives drastically. It will be ridiculous if our own athletes fare poorly in their home country, the hosting country.

But at least I can sit safely in my room typing this.

Disclaimer: I am not feeling particularly appreciative at the moment. We cannot always use the fact that people take for granted Singapore's security and political stability as an argument every time citizens face major discrepancies in the nation's policies and complain. (Does this sentence make sense to you?) Because the nation's security and political stability (and prosperity, racial harmony etc) are not everything. There are the micro elements to life. It is not always about the big picture. If the people say something we must listen and come up with better plans, not just hear and just go ahead anyway. I figure that if a lot of people day "Oh no I don't think we should do this" then it is better not to.

Happy National Day.

Update: The National Day Parade has begun, and as with all parades, I am left wondering why can't the ministers or big shots enter the parade grounds with everyone else so we don't need to wait for them to do all the salutations?

Saturday, 31 July 2010

Bang Bang! (IA IA!)

Blogs are tools for entertaining someone, yes? If you really just wanted a space to vent all your secret deep dark inner angsty mcangstysonness you might as well get a diary.

Plagiarism!
I did try to keep a diary! I really did.
My first diary dissolved into nothingness after a couple of entries. I tried to record to the smallest detail but it became too tiring.
My second one began a few years later and ended up as a storage for passwords and computer data.
The third and last became my book of expenses.
...
Just got back from outfield yesterday. It was a disaster! I think our drills were lagi more champion than what we did during BMT. If we really did what we did for the up-slope contact right and the last chionging mission during war I would be typing this in hell now. Half the time we didn't know what to do, and the other half we had conflicting ideas of what the hell (--> in camp this word would be replaced with an expletive) was going on. And there was the usual crowd that made everything 2x as unbearable.

The only fun things were the sentry duty convo on the comms. (The commanders threatened to turn us out if they managed to sneak under our security so we put up sentries.)
For example:

1)
Excited Voice: "Sentry 2 to LPS...there is a mysterious figure moving around in the bushes in front of me. Over."
LPS: "LPS to Sentry 2...how big is the figure? Over."
Sentry 2: "Er..it is not very big over."
LPS: "LPS to Sentry 2. Is it human? Over."
Sentry 2: "Sentry 2 to LPS...it does not appear to be human...looks like a boar. Over."
LPS: "(-.-) Okay report back to me if it gets too close over."

2) When I was moving downhill with my buddy to replace the previous sentry...

"HALT!"
LPS: "Sentry 3 was it you who shouted halt?"
(Static)
(Here I stepped on a large twig.)
Crack.
Nervous Voice: "Sentry 4 to LPS. I heard a lock crack in my 6 o'clock position."
LPS: "Roger Sentry 4. LPS to Sentry 3. Was it you who shouted halt?"
Me: "Er Section 3 to LPS, there seemed-"
Excited Voice: "Sentry 2 to LPS. Two dark figures seen walking downhill."
(I was blinded with a xenon torchlight.)
Me: "Section 3 to LPS. There seemed to be a misunderstan-"
Sentry 3: "Roger. There is an unidentified person carrying a weapon moving in my direction."
Me: "Er-"
LPS: "Okay use the challenging procedure."

Sunday, 25 July 2010

And thus began my next chapter.

I have taken to posting through single-liners because I have nothing interesting outside National Service that I would like to blog about. Nearly everything in the Army has 'restricted' printed on top and below it, and we are frequently reminded not to write publicly about NS life.

I have decided to treat this space as a semi-personal journal because the readership remains at a bare minimum. For friends who still refer back here, I thank you for retaining the hope that there are still sparks of imagination and writing ignited here. In return, I also hope that you leave the occasional remark on the tagboard, so I know I am not talking (albeit in an erratic manner) to a wall.

Sunday, 4 July 2010

Friday, 28 May 2010

Sunday, 9 May 2010

No title as of now.

While reading this article (http://blogs.straitstimes.com/2010/5/9/a-mother-s-love) I had a sudden inclination to post.

What if I were the child with muscular dystrophy? Everyday there is this person in your life who refuses to give up, someone who is always there even when both of you are so tired; tired of waking up to a world which seems so hopeless, a world that revolves without bringing you with it, a world that is only you and me. The bleak future brings tears to my eyes. My first thought is suicide. To break up this routine that never seems to end, till death do us part.

He sees her unimaginable love in the simple action of holding his hands and cleaning them. She never thinks of her love as something noble. He loves her, and it pains him to see how much she is going through. Perhaps his hope is to become stronger one day, and be the caregiver instead, and yet, he could be hoping that the ordeal will be over soon through an alternative, ominous manner instead, to put out the suffering altogether. It pains her to see him in a bedridden state, and yet the glow in his eyes never die out, and that gives her strength. Love holds us together, but breaks us up too. The parent's unyielding love for her son.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger? I am astounded that this is widely endorsed.

~

In a less morbid tone, I am most displeased to announce that three of our commanders have been ordered to take up position at other training grounds. Is this really a wise decision?

Saturday, 17 April 2010

Xin Wang \ Shutter Island

Thank you greg for jioing me out for dinner.
Thank you HJ for providing your words of advice in your always-coherent fashion.
Thank you qy for having green hair. HEH. No, thank you for your dry humour and infectious laughter.

Thank you Roy for your incessant Starbucks cravings which led us to TCC in the end.
Thank you Elvis for taking the effort to send a random joke and coming down from FTP.
Thank you C.s. for finding the correct escalator to take.
Thank you Weiji for wanting to buy a pull-up bar such that the group of us spent a longer time together.

I like how this orange font in bold slants to the right

I like the comfort of an uncrowded, air-conditioned coffee house.
I like sitting around with you guys, because I know you will be with me whether we are sitting in limousines or tricycles.
I like the slowness of browsing through tidbits at the nearby supermarket.
I like the smile on your aged face, when you open the door to a smelly boy clad in a green pixelised uniform.
I like hearing those words of advice over and over again, because I know that one day, I won't hear it again. Ever.
I like talking to you about the errant motorists that plague the roads nowadays; I hope one day you can stop what you are doing, relax, and let me do the driving.
I like buying Breakfast Deluxe for you.
I like the laughter, and the peace that these four ordinary walls can bring.
I like the joy of being able to type all these.

I don't exactly know what kind of person I am to you; I only know I cannot live without you, and vice versa.

When can I hold my head high, and let all of you live the lives that you have dreamt of since young? When can I earn enough so that you can live life outside of that little cabin, cooped up for up to 14 hours at one go? When can I take you to Japan, to witness the season of the sakura? And then when can I stretch out my hand for someone to hold on?

To Become a Person of Valour and Virtue.

"Courage is the judgement that something is more important than fear."

Saturday, 3 April 2010

Army Daze

The clock on my computing device reads 3.39 am.
I sit at my kitchen table typing away at a blog post. The battery is quickly running out of juice.
The soup in my stomach drains away, and I ready myself for a McDonald's Breakfast Conquest.

One month in the army has passed, and I say with some restraint that time has passed rather quickly. This is because nothing much has changed since becoming enlisted, except that I have passed my 2.4 and SBJ, although these hardly qualify as achievements. When nothing big happens in a period of time, these days pass hastily. You hardly feel Time's presence (or absence?) until you realise that he betrayed you by leaving when you need it most. Yet time passed slowly, for us who:

"Oh I don't want to live an army life hey
IC I wanna go
OC don't let me go
Mummy I wanna go home~

I am in Viper Coy, of which the report sick ratio is rather astonishing, and that's about it. We have rather decent commanders, especially our PC, who makes me want to quickly pass my IPPT.

The clock now reads 3.50 am.
I end off a post on my computing device.

Friday, 5 March 2010

Private Life

Hi guys, if you are there, I am going to an offshore, sunnier-than-Singapore island tomorrow. I wish I can do more here, but I guess my abilities are limited. Miss Tan, my mum and horoscope told me not to give up. See a better me in two years.

Smile. Yes, you, smile. (:

Sunday, 28 February 2010

做人真难

我已久日没有动笔作画了。

有一股莫名的被动停止了我。我一直在想这是为何?我终于知道了。除了没有创作灵感,就是害怕制造不出来让人有所感受的作品来。再者,我也感觉到美术里画家的傲气。让我先说明一下吧:想要批评一个作品有时是件简单的事,有时却困难百倍。不只考虑到创作者的心情,也得考虑到他拥有的 -- 即使是少量的 -- 傲气。你有办法达到他的水准吗?没有的话请住嘴。那作画的我也难免会有这股傲气,毕竟我修养不到家,没有大将之风,却想掩盖这个事实。

批评是极为普遍的。像是说刚看的电影不过如此,或本地球队不堪一击,或是买来的汉堡不好吃等。我们会有任何的反应是因为我们有其它类似的东西可以拿来作比较与参考。比如说《锦衣卫》的演员能把演技发挥到淋漓尽致,而《Percy Jackson》里的演技实在烂透;英超联赛里的任何一个球队都能轻易击败本地球队;汉堡王的牛肉汉堡比麦当劳的好吃到~

艺术作品包含了不只是艺人的血汗、也不只是他想表达给观众的。它也是有一定的商业价值。
还有傲气。

批评艺术作品是一件不容易做的事情。我们只能默默地成为友善、和蔼的观众。

Friday, 26 February 2010

让我们乘着阳光

I got my official 宅男 specs today, and I look very 宅 in them indeed.



After getting my 宅男 specs, I chionged down to city hall to pass st xy's present. The hungry figure then walked around suntec alone. I was hoping to grab dinner at Just Noodles, a pity Elvis (see below) had to go out with his family while Weijie the tardy boy was too lazy to change clothes.

Also, Elvis has checked out, while Roy and Chiat Siang are checking out from Hotel Tekong tomorrow. This means what? Movie day!!! Yeah man. Hahaha. This is our Final Destination, before we too check into Hotel Tekong. When? After probably-results day. Onwards, Percy Jackson!

肚子饿

昨晚,缺乏睡眠的身体吵着要睡觉。然而,脑筋在一瞬间却不舍得停止转动(这是“日有所思”的范围,到了做梦时依然在转动)。我辗转难眠,起身泡了一杯热巧克力,在厨房看那多的悬疑小说。因为看书比较用神,半夜一点四十分,我的眼珠稍感疲惫,我即上床,马上见周公。

其实在一千年以前我曾经苦思过人存在的意义。不过过了许久,我迟迟没有什么收获。大家都要活着充实、有意义的人生。不过什么是“充实、有意义的人生”?我依然困扰着。人自称是地球的第一号生物,但有好些事情永远只是猜测,预算不到,也研究不出来。

说到“永远”二字,我感到莫名的兴奋,又有种不踏实的感受。直觉,不,应该是潜意识告诉我,想要保持永恒的人被它的神秘气息迷住了,因为永恒是很难想象的,也是不容易达到的。不过,我本身也被吸引住了。我想保留我生命里的一些永恒。这也牵涉到“永生”。我希望我的父母一直健在着。我希望我的姐姐也如此。我希望我的好朋友也是。而我自己,当然也是。我希望可以留住初恋与暗恋的感觉,虽然我不是很确定我是否有过前者。我希望能够与一个终生伴侣白头偕老。我希望在我因老了,吸最后一口气(这样好像有点矛盾,毕竟我都希望要永生了)时,同样老了的朋友,可以在我身边。不是同年同月同日生,至少能同年同月同日死。

看得出,有些事情只不过是人的一份贪念,是不合逻辑的一些追求。