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."

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.

POP lo!

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?

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."

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.

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. (:

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。

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。

这是一封请求信，也是一个鼓励。

妈妈说真心爱会爱得更精彩，结果我没有女孩
When I see you
I run out of words to say
I wouldn't leave you
'Cause you're that type of girl to make me stay

为什么找了些情歌歌词？因为近日被一位友人缠得要命！XX先生喜欢上XX小姐，想要以某种狡猾的手段见XX小姐一面。我变成夹心饼里的奶油，很压抑呢！所以XX先生，看到此帖子时，请积极主动地追求这位XX小姐，以防她看上YY或ZZ先生，也好让我的生活好过一点！谢谢！

那多，谢谢你的文笔。

近日（其实是今天）看完一本那多的悬疑小说:《反转》。里面的三个手记让我留下深刻的印象，而且非常佩服作者纯熟的手法与整肚子的墨水。非一般的智慧加上新鲜、匪夷所思的故事内容；这些是很精彩，而显得真实的故事。因为最后的手记在24小时内读完，所以印象略深。《返祖》提出“直觉”有可能就是潜意识。人一天内看到、听到、嗅到、或触摸到的东西是无数的，使到一些被认为是不重要的自动过滤掉。不过这些被过滤掉的东西并没有完全消失，而是伏在潜意识里，渐渐形成所谓的“直觉”。

刚刚，老爸刚进门就拿了一袋不明物体走入房里。他还没开口说话，我便猜了：“鸡翅膀啊？”

老爸吃惊。

Brocade Guards

Today is movie outing day! Seems like a movie outing day will become a permanent fixture of our lives for every week, until ORD. But why am I talking about ORDing? I have not even enlisted.

We watched 14 Blades, or 锦衣卫. There was one major disappointment with the movie, but there were the redeeming parts. The Brocade Guards were the secret police of the Ming Dynasty, the personal guards of the emperor. I watched the 制作特辑 beforehand, and was informed that the Jin Yi Wei existed in history, and that one difference between them and other guards was that they had many weapons - the 14 blades. The 14 blades were introduced at the very beginning, eight were reserved for torture and interrogation, five for killing and the last for suicide. But the letdown was that these detailed descriptions end here! I was waiting for more demonstrations of the 14 blades, so much that I thought Qing Long would commit suicide with the last blade after killing Xuan Wu. But Xuan Wu died rather ordinarily, far from the 两败俱伤 fight of Tuo Tuo and Qing Long.

After that we decided to burn a hole in our pockets by going to the coffee connoisseur. A cup of hot chocolate costs $6.20, while there was a 10% service charge, in addition to GST. The hot cafe latte tasted average for about the same price, but at least we got to talk. Someone was sticking out like a sore thumb in No.4 and backpack. >:D

Then another 140 dollars gone! I went to get my NS specs ($120 for 700 myopia, 75 astig for each eye) made and a budget Casio watch. Roy if you happen to read this my specs shop is Teck Yew at Kovan. My first pair was made there, and thereafter. Don't spend >200 on a pair of specs! Hahaha.

I am not looking forward to visiting later on. It is a boring aspect of CNY. You are taken aback. You question me, aghast, does CNY not mainly involve visiting your friends and relatives? I am adamant, for I do not like crowds in an enclosed space, nor do I enjoy meeting strangers each new year, and then coming to an understanding that these unfamiliar faces either share the same surname as me, or at least have some amount of blood that runs the same in our veins.

I am also not accustomed to adults going gaga over a brat who refuses to take an angpao becasue it has an image of a girl on it and he's a boy. I don't find it extremely exhilarating, the only emotion I feel is wtf? This kid is rude.

On another note, happy Valentine's! Or friendship day. Or something.

On a quiet bus

It's the start of a new weekend. A laziness hangs over the heartlands. A bustling estate is virtually unseen, but I know the quiet front is but a facade, covering up the intense activity that goes beyond in the homes, markets and supermarkets. Stomach growling, I was proven right when the bus passes by the newly opened market in sengkang.

Typing at a quiet bus-stop in sengkang

The silence - occasionally disrupted by the few cars making their way to and from various destinations - makes me fear that I have missed the last bus. But the board behind me clearly indicated that the last buses were at least 15 minutes away.

Today concludes my job as beer promoter/merchandiser. My adventurous mission began when I initially picked the longest schedule available so that I will have more of my lonesome days occupied. But one day into my job at shengsiong tekka I was more or less compelled to make a temporal transfer to shengsiong tanjong katong. Then after another three days I was told to stop work for four days, and get transferred to a new location. I was worried, and blamed my poor promoting skillz, but I later discovered a greater truth, and a more logical reason for my transfers. Also, so much for signing a bloody contract. A very versatile contract!

Back to today: I was deployed at Rivervale Mall, a ghost town mall on first impression. Today was my last day, and the day I lose my penknife (a rather prized possession I have come to appreciate). NTUC was more sai gang then shengsiong outlets, but at least there were people to talk to and guide you. A promoter I was less, a merchandiser and a coolie I was more of. Beer seemed to come everyday in hundreds of cartons, and just today we shelved 150 cartons of tiger beer, while yesterday was an amalgam of Leo, GFES, Carlsberg, Chang, Baron's, Tiger (120 cartons) and Jolly Shandy, in quarts, singles or tall cans.

I was somewhat sad to leave, although the job was rather lousy, but there were some friends made, like marigold, yeos and carlsberg. There was also a pretty cashier and pretty customers whom I am not allowed to check out. Also, auntie in charge of us was funny and nice.

Oh, and I strongly believed that the reason of my transfer was that a guy was needed at where I was deployed, to carry heavy beer. And yes, my muscles have become more taut and bigger after carrying those damn cans and bottles!

P.S. Never go for agencies! They eat part of your pay and give you ridiculous break time slots that are impossible to follow.

Had a great dream.

I love you yirin, whoever you may be. :)

I am Hungry

Aren't dreams good? Even nightmares?

I had a night full of dreams I can still roughly recall on awakening. But my head still feels the aftermath of a bad night's sleep.

And this too: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Insomnia