World's End's Garden

"As a boy who dreams of an ideal, as a teen who wants to have both the ideal and the reality, and as an adult who accepts the impossibility of the ideal and compromises with reality."

I got this quote from wikipedia. Somehow it sums up how I feel about life nowadays, especially now I have more time to think about it as I'm at home whiling my time away doing precious nothing, but loving every minute I waste as it means I'm not spending it doing some other random nonsense in the "Organisation".
Today I had to go to St Nick's to pick my sister up from her school. As I turned out of my estate, I immediately met with a traffic jam. As I crawled my way through the traffic, I couldn't help but feel that driving is like life. We're always in transit, having to get to one place from the other, always in a hurry to get there before it's too late, and we curse when we're in jams where we can't get to where we want soon.
Maybe I'm in a phase in life which mirrors a traffic jam. Right now, as I'm on leave, I'm more or less in a limbo avenue, where I crawl through the minutes with not much to do, but unlike the impatient driver who honks at the cars in front of him, I'm quite content to just turn up the volume of the radio, lean back and just release the footbrake once in a while to inch forward. For now at least, because when it's time to go full throttle, away I'll go.

Blue Monday

He leaned onto the railing and tilted his head to look up to the night sky.
"I would like to get to know you better."
The words came out softly, so softly that he was momentarily surprised that he actually said those words out loud, and not in his subconsciousness.
She stole a glance at him, before turning back to her original position, which was leaning forward on the very same railing.
"What do you mean?"
He paused for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he let it all out.
"Can you remember how we first met?"
She just nodded slightly. "It was the first day I joined the club. You were teaching a bunch of us the basic skills. As I remember, you were quite nervous when it was my turn."
He chuckled at the memory. "Truth be told, when I saw you, all I could think was 'What a pretty girl'."
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. He saw her suppress a smile, all the while looking away over the railing.
"I also remember you asking for my number on the your last day at the club."
"I was trembling all over. Up to now I don't know how I got the courage to ask you for your number."
Another pause. This one was longer. Finally, he spoke.
"We have known each other for a few years now. It's just that, sometimes I wonder what kind of friendship do we have. We communicated more through sms than actual face to face interaction, and there's only so much one can find out about the other person through words on a cellphone."
He turned his whole body to face her.
"Somehow I always feel that, despite the many times we talk, we seem to be almost fencing, each one of us trying to delve deep into the other's psyche, yet not so deep until the other withdraws away. It's like an invisible barrier is between us."
"You're a special girl. When I'm with you I feel I can drop all the pretence I need to show at work and truly be myself. You've seen the real me, that soft underbelly under that tough as nails exterior."
He paused yet again. Her face was unreadable, not a shred of emotion was displayed at all.
"I just... just want to get to know you better. I want to know how you feel about things, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry, what you really think when you frown or smile at events. I hope you'll let me into your world, so I can know you better."
She just stood there. He wonders if he said too much. But somehow, he doesn't regret his words. They were honest and from the heart, with the greatest sincerity.
"Thank you." She said gently. She turned to face him, her gaze meeting his for the first time of the whole conversation.
Neither of them spoke.
However, he knew that wasn't necessary at all.

Sanctuary

It's been a while, hasn't it?
I've been to tioman and back, 15 days of sleepy island life, where crowds are non-existant, the scenery is beautiful, the waters are clear, where the fishes swim up to you, close enough for you to kiss them, where the people are friendly and cheerful, where 10 year kids ride motorbikes, their short legs barely touching the ground, I found myself charmed by the simple island, yet yearning for the urban city of home at the same time.
Am wanting, BADLY, some kind of purpose or interest to pursue when it has finally ended. So anyone with a lobang, you know who to look for ok?
Oh yah, I recommend everyone to go to the Ben & Jerry's at Raffles City basement and eat the New York ice cream (can't remember the full name) :)
This week's 8 days has my favourite local actress, Rui En on its cover. Inside, in her interview, she says she will always stand by her beliefs and values and never compromise, even if it means she gets looked over for roles. I think (and this is not said because I'm more or less besotted with her. Just ask any of my campmates or my friends) she is perhaps the most honest person to herself. I mean, how many times have we sacrificed our values and beliefs in the organisation? I know I have, and many a time I've justfied it by saying whatever I did was necessary to "survive". Sometimes I wonder how true is it, but most of the time I shrug it off and continue on. Now that the end is near, I'm somewhat ashamed of what I've done before, and regret my actions. However, I still believe values and beliefs do not fill a stomach. She doesn't need to support a family, so i guess she still can afford to pick and choose her roles. That's why I want to be true to myself before I grow up and hold on to more responsibilities.
I'm on leave from next week onwards, so I guess I'll post here more frequently from now on. First up would be to clean up my study room though. Time to get my life, my own life, one that I have to live it by myself, in order. No more hiding behind taking orders, putting the blame on others forcing myself to do certain things. Time for me to be the master of my own destiny. And believe you me, I can't wait. I can't say I'm ready, I think I'm far from ready in fact, but I want to be out there and away from anymore safety nets.

Emotional block

I am highly frustrated by my lack of ability to express myself in written English. When will get back my swashbuckling written ability? Return soon, for without it I'm really less than half of who I was before..

Uninspired

I think, if I'm not wrong, there was a time where I could just stare at the blogger entry template, and slowly but surely generate some nonsense or gem of an opinion in it , normally in the death of the night after a hard day's worth of school.
Nowadays, I can't even think of interesting nicknames for my MSN, let alone insightful entries about my messed up life. For that matter, I can't seem to muster up a worthwhile opinion about anything nowadays. There were times where I would rant and rave about how crappy mediacock is and how the voting system is flawed in Singapore Idol and how it undermines democracy in Singapore, but not anymore recently. No fire in my belly. It's tempting to blame the service for it, but although it is not the only contributing factor. Sure, while in service you're encouraged not to think creatively, only to regurgitate what previous people have done, and never questioning it. The word "Why?" was momentarily banned from my workplace at one point, and my superior would reply to it by saying "Because I said so." How's that for a convincing argument.
Still, it's more of my laziness to come up with an opinion. Maybe because I know that the best way to survive is just to quietly live out the time and go on to the greener pastures of life.
Oh well, just musing. Will be out of it soon.

Masochist

Well, in the end, the idiot got the girl.
I know this is all scripted and everything, but one has to wonder. Would you do so much for a girl you love, but had rejected you at first, then became the girlfriend of your best friend, and despite that fact you still think of her and help her out while she is in the arms of your best friend?
All I can say if you want to, you're either just crazily stupid or eternally optimistic. Either way I believe you're the ultimate masochist. You're just asking for pain to come your way.
But of course, in the lala-land of TV, the sacrifices are not wasted, as the love sick idiot gets the girl in the end.
Pity we don't live in such a convenient fantasyland.

For you I will..

It's crazy I tell you. Sometimes random emotions just come upon you and you can't help but wonder why. You haven't experienced such emotions for so long and you think you're immune to it for now, but suddenly it just creeps up on you and next thing you know it you're stuttering and become tongued tied.
All those latent, hidden feelings come back, you can feel the euphoria associated with them, yet the apprehension of past troubles caused by such misguided feelings will hold you back from surrendering yourself to them. You remember the pain these feelings caused you the last time.
So you wait. You keep a respectful distance. You're there, yet you leave a crucial part of yourself out. You say things with double meanings, wondering which is the meaning you want to be interpreted. You show concern but put up a front of forced nonchalance as well, to prevent the impression of being overly concerned from being formed. You talk in riddles, hide your emotions, put on that smile, all in effort of putting up a show of calmness, to tell all nothing will ever faze you, and show nothing that would betray your true convictions.
So you put up your defences. You're scared that if you let down your guard again, your soft underbelly will be torn to pieces by the vultures, those who would make sport of your perceived imperfections, and those who would disregard your deepest and strongest emotions with cruel callousness. You're afraid that the truth may be the last thing you want to hear.
So you wait. You wait in the vain hope that the other party would lower her defences, take that vital first step, show you that no harm will be meant, before you would be coaxed out of your tightly wound shell, for you to let down the facade, for you to be some semblance of your true nature. You wait in the hope a signal of acceptance will come your way, a symbol of harmony between two souls, a sign that it's a risk worth taking.
I guess most of us are waiting. Waiting for the other person to let down his or her defences. You may think that person shouldn't be you, as the last time you did that, you were hurt. Once bitten, twice shy, you hold your cards even closer to your chest, exceedingly frightful that even the slightest slip will cause you the same pain as before. So you're willing to wait, for the memory of the pain is still fresh..
But waiting eventually becomes an impasse of awkward glances, non-conversations before the eventual drifting apart. For all you know, the other party was willing to do so if you did first. The echo of a missed opportunity will ring loud in your heart forever then..
So the question remains, do you wait, or do you take the first step?

Final Phase

As of today, my service balance has reached 2 digits. The end is near..
It's a nice sunday afternoon, the weather is fine, and I can't help but wonder, what the hell am I doing blogging on this fine day?
Paradoxically, after my past few weeks have been burnt with duties, family emergencies or personal emergencies, here comes a day where I can really relax and do stuff I want to do, yet I end up doing a whole lot of nothing. Jolly.
Still, it has been a trying last few weeks. My sister got pneumonia and was warded, watched pirates and began obsessing over its soundtrack, was put on standby to go to Indonesia to assist the relief efforts after the most recent tsunami (in the end I didn't go), depressing uni pre-departure sessions where the fact that my further education will be held back for a year more became all too apparent and painful, the start of the post-service trip planning, the overnight mahjong session that ensued causing me to be a zombie for 3 days, my driving mishaps plus the first time I drove the car by myself and only myself and most of all the nice times I spent with very good friends.
August, September, October, November does not count. I can almost feel it. It's near, but yet still far...
August brings my operation, which I hope will yield a healthy amount of MCs. Also the labour intensive NDP will end, bringing a lull period. Then comes the audit, the last of my tenure, I hope to do it properly this time and save myself any potential trouble. This is the month I hope to hand over all the stuff to my understudies, so I can be Mr Hands Off for the rest of my time.
Will most probably go for an overseas exercise in sept, for 2 weeks, with a base doctor, so it shouldn't be that bad. Like I always told him, send me as I'm the only guy without a girlfriend so I wouldn't mind the long period of time away from Singapore. 2 weeks effectively means that the number of true working days I have in Sept are greatly reduced, especially if the post exercise off I'm promised is given to me. And October is the month of clearing leave and off.
Can't wait.
But, as I always say, be patient, everyday is a day closer to the day you leave the service.

And it was all over

Needless to say my last month has been consumed by the FIFA world cup. Been trying to catch the matches played late at nights or early in the morning and still getting up to drga myself to camp to work. I'm actually amazed I managed to get through this world cup period without any major meltdowns. Can you imagine? All my 3 bosses are not rabid football fans and don't give two hoots about the world cup.
Still, I managed to survive, and there are great memories to take away from this world cup. The absolute genius of the 24 pass goal by Argentina and their subsequent demolition job of Serbia and Montenagro, the hush that went around my living room when the red card was produced for Wayne Rooney, the dismay I felt by the very unjust penalty for Italy against Australia, the surprise I got when the Brazilians were dumped out of the cup, and finally the experience of taking today off to watch the final in kenneth's house, and the sickening feeling of seeing zidane red carded.
One month of madness is over. Football is really the opiate for the masses. I cannot even begin to comprehend the scale of its reach. It is truly the global game.
Once again, all hail the Beautiful Game.

Thin Ice

Yet another thought that pops up in my head once in a while appeared while I was idling in front of the computer which prompted me to write about. I think during my J2 year I'm quite sure it was Edwin who told me that it's important to learn how to ice skate. His thought process was that when deciding where to go for group outings like OG outings, you should try and convince the group to go to the ice skating rink in jurong or kallang. There, if you're competent in ice skating, the girls who are greenhorns at the activity will naturally gravitate towards you as their pillar of support and also you can get to teach them how to ice skate.
(I'm not sure if you really said it ed, but if not then it must have been some other guy then.)
Can't really comment on that, as in the end I only managed to do ice skating last year in canada and landed on my butt far too many times that a 10 year old caucasian girl had to offer me the walker, much to my embarrassment.
Still, I guess you can draw some parrallels between ice skating to a relationship. As a guy, chances are you have to be that pillar of strength, the person who will hold her as the two of you negotiate the slippery surfaces.
But more importantly, is that she trusts you enough to go ice skating for you, as she is safe in the knowledge, misguided or not, that if she were to fall, you'll be there to stop her from hitting the ground.

Night

She sat beside him in the passenger's seat, trying to catch her breath as he drove the car away from the park. She tried to grab a piece of tissue paper from the tissue box on the dashboard in front of her, but her trembling fingers betrayed her; the box instead fell near the gear stick. Without as much as a sideways glance, he picked up the box and placed it back on the dashboard, removed a piece of tissue paper and passed it to her wordlessly, never once taking his eyes off the road. She took the paper from him and at the same time looked at him. His face was a picture of intense concentration, as though he thought that any moment now an obstruction was going to block his way. He seemed as though he hasn't even registered her presence beside him.
Perhaps he was angry. He had every right to be angry. Yet what exuded from him was not rage, yet she felt it was a form of calmness, like a deep lake with an unruffled surface, the blue water concealing a hidden volcano of emotions.
However, she also felt sadness and concern from his being, but she could feel he was suppressing them. He may not have looked at her directly, but she could see him take a few peeks at her from the various mirrors in the car.
She suddenly felt self conscious. Her hair was tousled, her make up smudged by the excessive sweating due to her exertions. In a vain attempt to salvage her appearance, she tamed her hair with a rubber band to tie a ponytail, and removed the make up with the rest of the tissues left in the cardboard box.
She looked at him as the car moved along, the trees casting silhouettes thanks to the golden lights from the streetlamps. She suddenly felt very small. She had managed to get herself into such a mess, and now she had to call upon someone who had trusted her so much, but whom she betrayed to drag her out of this.
When she called him, she wondered if he would help at all. After all, her betrayal had hurt him deeply, and he still bore the scars of her decisions. Yet, he was here, coming to her aid in her time of need.
She could not take it anymore.
"Aren't you going to ask me why I asked you to pick me up in from that desolate place at such a late hour?"
Her words seem to echo in the car.
He said nothing at first. He didn't even change his facial expression. Then with a sudden jerk, the car screeched to a stop on the empty road. He changed to parking gear and leaned back on to his chair.
"If you wanted me to know, you would have told me by now."
He turned to face her.
"Do you?"
For only perhaps one second, their eyes met, but she swiftly averted her gaze downwards in shame. He sighed, changed gears and moved off again.
"Let's go home." He simply said.
The car sped off into the night.

Definately not one of my best works, but I sort of made it up as I wrote it. I was trying to write a short story based on the first 2 lines of dialogue. Not really classic material, but I hope people will like it.

The 5 stages of grief

This thought came to me when I watched the first episode of the season 2 of House, but I never got down to writing it on paper. But recently I have been constantly reminded about it due to my very big and irritating arrow.
Anyway, don't you think getting a new arrow is much like the 5 stages of grief? For the uninitiated, the 5 stages of grief is some pseudo psychology model as to how most people deal with grief, like in the cases of terminal illness or sudden death of loved ones. The 5 stages are as of below with an example, courtesy of wikipedia.

1. Denial and isolation: "This is not happening to me."
2. Anger: "How dare you do this to me?!" (either referring to a god, the late person, or themselves)
3. Bargaining: "Just let me live to see my son graduate."
4. Depression: "I can't bear to face going through this, putting my family through this."
5. Acceptance: "I'm ready, I don't want to struggle anymore."

Well to place it into the NSF receiving an arrow context...

1. Denial and isolation: "Wah lau eh, why I kena?"
2. Anger: "How can like that, always arrow me?! &*^$&%!" (of course never in front of the person who gave you the arrow)
3. Bargaining: "Encik I do this for you can get 1 day off or not?"
4. Depression: "Wah lau sian la, everyday do this kind of shit. Waste my time only..."
5. Acceptance: "Haiyah, what to do. Army what, lan lan suck thumb loh."

Comments?

Breather

2 days into a very trying week and already I feel like calling for a time out. Office politicking is getting worse thanks to my new arrow. Don't really want to comment too much here online, but I'll deal with it. Somehow. And eventually.
Is work supposed to be so hard? Would you really have no chance to love what you do? It seems that the regulars I see in my medical centre don't really seem to love their job much. Whatever the reasons they may have for signing on, I really wonder if you have no passion for your job, how are you going to convince yourself to wake up in the morning each day to go to work?
If the next person that tells me that NS is like the outside working life I seriously don't know whether I want to believe him/her or not. Truth be told, I'm scared it'll be true. Then work would be no different from doing NS all over again. Then I might as well sign on. Right I'm sure.
I don't want this entry to degenerate into a whine fest.I think in the end someone will just tell me to shove it and quit whining and get the job done.
Truth is, there are days I get so tired of the politicking that I just want to avoid it all. But running away never solved any problems.
Anyway, hopefully when I come back here to blog again there'll be happier stuff to talk about. Being depressed is also never a good thing as well. Every experience is a learning experience, and more importantly, everyday is a day closer to ORD! :)

You don't have to fear this love...

A week of change, if I was asked to describe the last week, those words can't be more apt. In this one week I had been shot a major arrow which effectively makes me a CO PA, made and cancelled my first day surgery appointment, and had my first AH duty yesterday.
Was quite trying at times, especially regarding that major arrow. I fear it may affect my off/leave plans, but it seems things wasn't as bad as I had imagined it. Still it isn't a walk in the park and looks like my intention of just quietly living out my 5 months left to ORD while pursuing my other goals outside national service faded faster than mist in the sun.
Yesterday's AH duty was boring, as the patients weren't really serious and they all looked stable and fine to me. Spent most of the time sitting on the comfy chairs either reading or catching forty winks in awkward angles. The female senior medic who was on duty with me brought vcds of idol dramas, which meant I had no chance to watch anything anyway as she monopolised the television.
Am currently listening to Angela Aki's This Love. Those who watch the anime Blood+ would know it as the 3rd ending song of the series. I had been a fan of Angela Aki since I heard her sing the theme for FFXII Kiss Me Goodbye and the absolutely wonderful Santa Fe, both songs I have recommended on this blog and posted the lyrics to the two songs here as well. Well I think she has managed to outdo herself this time. A very moving and powerful ballad, it has the rare distinction of being a song I fell in love with the very first time I heard it. The powerful vocals, married with the piano and violin, form a moving combination. I can feel the intense emotion as she sings every note, despite the fact that the song is mostly in japanese save for one line.
But strangely, perhaps the reason why this song gives me the chills everytime I play it, is that this song reminds me of her. Not precisely her per se, but those long forgotten and forsaken feelings associated with her. It is just a bunch of random images or sounds, like her standing in front of me, the sound of her laugh, her screwing up her face in concentration as she tackles yet another math problem, or her sweet voice chiding me to work harder.
I can't really explain why. Maybe it was due to the boredom I felt while on duty yesterday. Or perhaps the stress of the new work assignment caused me to dredge up past memories that I wanted to stay buried.
Whatever the case, I couldn't help but feel that the only english lines in this song described what transpired far too well. They were "you don't have to fear this love..."
Haha, I was so wrong then. It was always wishful thinking on my part, therefore I always felt those memories are not worth remembering, as it was one-sided.
Sometimes when the day's madness gets me down real bad, I subconsciously yearn for someone to be by my side to help me through these difficult times. Sometimes I feel like I'm about to breakdown from all the stress. But somehow I always managed to pull through. The good part of being well adjusted. Despite any changes in a situation, you would still be able to pull through in the end. Initially it'll be tough, but you'll get over it soon and be back to your old self.
In this time and age where secondary school kids are already dating at ages as young as 14, when I see them in public or in the MRT trains I feel like a voyeuristic dinosaur. I don't quite understand, I'm only 20 yet I feel so jaded. Wasn't I young like them last time? And that "last time" was just a mere 2 years ago? It seemed like an eternity ago...
I do realise I have just rambled on and on pointlessly. There's really no point going on to explain further, as in the end the answer I want will never come out. Best is to deal with it the way I have been dealing with it for the last half a year or so.
By not thinking about it.

The answer to life, universe, everything

I'm asking this question on behalf of a good friend. This question has been plaguing him I guess for about 2 years and 4 months already. He has been actively seeking for an answer but has been unsucessful for various reasons. It is just simply, what does a girl you know for about 3-4 days only mean when she hugs you before she gets off the MRT train for home?
Sure brings back old memories...

Departure

I read about her death in the papers.
It shouldn't have come as a shock. I knew mentally a long time she didn't had much time left.
So the news didn't strike me hard. It was more of a sense of finality, like it was going to happen, and now that it did, perhaps she would have a sense of release.
Still the facts are laid bear for all to see. A young woman, on the cusp of adulthood, cruelly cut down after only a mere 20 years.
I guess she made me realise that the scale of my problems and grievances with the world in general are very superficial. Here I was griping about unimportant things while she was there fighting cancer.
Over the course of my ambulance attachment I had a case of one guy who tried to commit suicide by cutting his wrist. Thinking back now, I would grabbed the guy by the collar and shouted in his face that he should cherish his life as there are many others out there who want to live very badly.
I never really knew her very well.
Thus, I didn't cry.
Perhaps there was no need to cry, for she had moved on to a place where the pain and suffering of the flesh are gone. A place reserved for people who faced death with such bravery and grace.
I used to think there's no such thing as dying in dignity. Death is death, the final answer. There is no more.
I still believe so. She may have left us, her death yet another statistic of a human being who has succumbed to cancer, yet she left an undying legacy.
She taught us, especially those who had forgotten how to so, like me, how to live life.
Joan, rest in peace.

Santa Fe

By Angela Aki

He spoke my language in this foreign land
Familiar secrets shared in a sinful bed
Imagination flowing through his ancient hands
He painted just my fantasy in red, bright red

I call him Santa Fe’
Someone to dance with on a rainy day

He will bring me all the empty reasons to be
Sure of what I’m only not so sure about

So can he just be my illusion
That I created with confusion?

He wears a tall top-hat filled with secrets of our souls
He’ll pull them out as he pulls you in through the secret hole

I call him Santa Fe’
Someone to bleed with on this lovely day

He will bring me all the empty reasons to be
Sure of what I’m only not so sure about

Will he take this grand delusion
Add his love to make his own conclusion?

True or false can you feel his pulse?
The warmth he carries really varies
With the name of the game

He will bring me all the empty reasons to be
Sore of what I’m only nt so sure about
In the end it leads to sudden madness when he
Takes these reasons breaths some sanity into them

So can he just be my illusion
I created with confusion
Will he take this grand delusion
Add his love to make his own conclusion

I love this song. The lyrics mirror the movie lost in translation.

Someone to bleed with on this lovely day..

They used to say that, if you had nothing good to say, just shut up and keep quiet. For my case, it's more of if you can't think of anything interesting to write about, don't blog. Or it could be just a nice way of saying I'm lazy. Or it could just mean I'm no longer the ZY who had an opinion about everything and anything. In short I have become an apathetic person who just goes with the flow.
And yet another side effect of army is seen.
Reading Jin's blog reminds me about those long lost JC times. Times where I was foolhardy and enthusiatic about anything. While I was waiting to pick my sis up from her school, I stood outside the school gates and observed the students going about their activities, once again I feel so old. Like some castaway from a forgotten era, a mere dustspot in history.
But yet, the feeling was not as bad as it was. As my sis came out and I gripped the steering wheel of the car, I realised that perhaps finally I can let go of that longing to return to school and move forward into my future.
After a long and ardous journey filled with many disappointments, I finally got my driver's license. And when I heard the magic words "you passed" I just felt a great sense of relief and happiness come over me. Relief as I finally managed to pass, happiness as my hard work had finally seen fruition.
Also I'm now a level 2 paramedic as my course had ended last week.
Now that these two are out of the way, it's time to move on to more achievements in my life. 5 months to ORD, this is the time to plan for my post ORD life.

On another sidenote, I do realise I have been thinking less about relationships. Maybe it's due to the lack of targets, or the fact I have piled myself up with distractors that prevent me from wallowing in loneliness or what nots, it seems that a calm has come over my emotional being. Maybe i'm just getting ready to be hurt again :)

Long weekend

Next week is the last week of my 9 week course, but field camp awaits tommorrow. If you purists can actually consider it as a field camp that is, it being a 2 day 1 night thing, but I know I can forget about sleeping for that night. It promises to be a night of turn outs galore.
Watched Mi3 with the guys on vesak day night, interestingly the 1st movie I watched for 2006. A great show of restraint no? Indeed, it was one of the better action movies I've watched before, with the action coming to you fast and furious and in your face. But i laughed at the part tom cruise's character's wife revived him using CPR only. The chance of that happening is extremely low.
After the movie, some went home, we were only left with brandon js adrian edwin and myself. Went to clarke quay for 2 jugs of beer, admittedly we should have gotten a tower instead and talked cock. Jim had to leave as he was going for a uber powerful reccee with maran leading (they were told to wear boots and jeans).
The four of us stoned by the quayside for a while, before brandon suggested we go to his house to finish up the chivas he managed to kope from his company chalet. Thus we cabbed there, but before we stayed awhile next to a open field where a bunch of people were playing with motorised kites decorated with luminous lights.
I downed 2 glasses of chivas with copious amounts of pokka green tea to go with it while watching man in the iron mask on axn, before crashing in don's room till the next day, where we went for breakfast at redhill.
I love long weekends.

Betwixt and Between

Was totally wasted in camp last tuesday after that crazy weekend. Slept throughout the whole of tuesday, had the usual feeling of someone just please end my suffering my knocking me out with a heavy blow to the head. Worst still we were doing stores till late and I was practically zombie-ing by then. BCS deployment was ok in my opinion, but our course commander thought it was lousy. What do you expect from people who have either never done deployment before or have only deployed once which was during their course?
Was highly intrigued by the Kong Hui batteries I came across when we went to Stagmont for a signal package. I liken it to going on an excursion during those school days long forgetten.
Hmm, I seem to lack interesting things to write about. Nick your requests for more "novel-like" stories will be entertained in good time, once I get the necessary inspiration. My life is a more mundane shade of green nowadays compared to back in JC, the creative juices aren't flowing as a result.
Jin told me that I should just blog anyway, just post anything, be it song lyrics or those quizs you can link to your blog. I think I'll just restrict this place to my thoughts, besides I don't have any lofty ambitions about this blog, besides with such poor readership it's quite pointless. It'll be just a corner of cyberspace for myself.
Anyway, just to sum up how my life is now:
Currently liking:
Music:
High and Mighty Color (great J-rock band, they did the themes for Bleach and Seed Destiny)
Anime songs from anime I've watched
Eyes on me by Angela Aki (a nice alternative to the faye wong's version, more emphasis on the piano, made me like a old song all over again)
FFXII theme Kiss me goodbye (what can I say, FFXII will take the ORD period by storm when it comes out in august hopefully)
Games:
Kingdom Hearts 2 (a great game not because of its plot or anything like that, it just makes you WANT to drop everything else and play it)
Nothing else as I want to stop playing games for a while once I get over KH2
Shows:
The usual anime, Bleach is getting awfully boring though
Reading:
Been borrowing random novels from the library on weekends, too much free time after RO
Catching up on my 3 magazines (TIME, Newsweek and Forbes)
Borrowed MAR from adrian

Well, 2 more weeks to pass out. After the topo this week it's Mi3 with the guys, and of course there's yet another long weekend to look forward to. Cheers people!

Crash and burn

What an exhausting weekend. Spent friday doing guard duty which was only given to me on thursday, played mahjong at jay's house on sat night, spent the better half of today out with either the fencers or the Guys celebrating the return of the prodigal son edwin. All that and a lot of sleeping in between.
Slow life these days. Course will be ending in 3 weeks, passed all my tests and practicals without actually working too hard, my residual knowledge of biology and smokebomb after smokebomb thrown to wayang in front of my testers proved to be suffice.
Attachment to Alexandra fire station and hospital proved to be a real eye opener. Saw a suicide attempt by the slashing of wrist, 2 asthma cases, 1 case of bad myocardial infarction ie heart attack, plus observed many a medical procedure in AH.
Actually being a SCDF paramedic during your NSF time is quite meaningful and good. For starters, you work either 2 day or night shifts in a row then get 2 days off. Your CPL pay is 600. You get meal allowance of 4 bucks a meal. You are really actually doing something useful other than just wayanging. The medics were bantering with their superiors in a very simple atmosphere, no semblance of office politcs seen. Plus you get to go and visit the civilian world all the time when you go out on calls. You get the chance to chat up the NYP nurses while at the hospital haha.
Oh well, had a very brief thought of signing on to be a paramedic, but that thought died very quickly.
Looks like I can't disrupt. That means I'm facing a period of 8 months of dead time before I enter university. Time to scout for a job to make sure those 8 months or so are spent meaningfully.
Am horrified by my duties when I return to the medical centre. Still hope things will settle down once our acute manpower shortage is solved.
I actually managed to run 7 km last week, albeit very slowly. Time to train for that now very elusive IPPT silver.
Haiz, don't really feel like turning in, even though my eyelids are very heavy. Once slumber gets me the next thing i'll know is that I'll be heading back to camp.
I really want more structure in my life. At least in JC the overarching goal was to get 4As so if I was ever in doubt I just realign everything according to that goal, but now the goal is just to ORD as soon as possible. How does one work towards that?

Twilight

His blade was darker than the darkest of nights.
And it was held in front of him.
The doppelganger stared down his real self.
Strange, he thought, he waited so long for this meeting. Many times he had fantasised about what he would do once he finally met his other. All the anger, the rage that had consumed him for so long would finally have found an outlet. He would defeat his other "real" self completely and assume his position. Where there was once an other there would only be him now.
Yet, now as his "real" self laid weakened before him, his blade in his possession, at the mercy of his own dark blade, the doppelganger hesitated. He had bested his real self. He had proven he was the stronger one. He knew that his real self could now be condemned to the fate that would have otherwise been the doppelganger's, which is not to die, rather just to fade into eternal nothingness.
And yet, for all his anger and hatred, he hesitated.
His real self had asked, when they clashed blades earlier, who was he? That question always amused him. He was nothing but yet something. He was not supposed to exist yet he does. He was neither light or dark, but something in between, destined not to wander in the realms of either. A mere shell.
He just had to know.
"Why did he choose you?" The doppelganger mouthed, before tossing his real self's blade back to him. The doppelganger slowly took up a battle stance as he watched his bewildered other stagger to his feet and reclaim his blade.
He knows nothing. He who knows nothing can understand nothing.
The doppelganger charged, swinging his dark blade with malice and intent, each slash a carefully calculated move imbued with the essence of rage and pain. His real self was however his equal, parrying his moves and counterattacking at the same time. The doppelganger brought his blade down heavily on his other's, and the two of them were locked in a fearsome embrace of weapons.
The doppelganger watched his real self buckle under the force of his blade. Beneath his dark hood, he smirked. I'm the superior one, he thought.
Suddenly, the doppelganger felt his whole being was being pushed back, as if a great invisible force had done so. He recovered quickly, and stood up again to see his other panting,leaning against his blade for support.
"I don't care who you are, but this ends right now!" He shouted. The doppelganger could only smile. He had bested him once, and he intended to do so again.
Then, with a speed that was incomprehensible, his other moved. One moment he was there, holding his blade in an attack stance, the next he was gone, a fuzzy blur of motion was all that the doppelganger caught. Desperately he raised his blade to block, but he knew he was going to be too late. Surprisingly, instead of a blade slicing through his miserable existence, he felt it slam hard against his own blade with a loud clash.
"I don't wish to fight you, but if you're going to be in my way, I'll just take you out before I move on then."
The doppelganger knew. If he had desired to do so, his other would have cut him already, but he had chosen not to. Such utter foolishness, he thought, as he pushed his other back. Then he realised. Maybe he chose him as he was what he was, a person who followed his heart, no matter where it led him.
Perhaps it was so.
The doppelganger drew his left hand back, and another blade materialised in his gloved hand. This blade was gleaming white, the yin to the yang of his other dark blade. This is the end, he whispered.
The doppelganger charged, dual wielding the conflicting blades. He overwhelmed his other with a wave of fierce attacks, before he crumpled to his knees, exhausted. A nonchalant flick of his right hand, and his other lost his blade yet again. It spun away from the two warriors.
The doppelganger stared into the defiant eyes of his other. Those azure blue eyes of his which he shared. It seemed to have a disconcerting effect on him, and once again, he hesitated. How does one strike his own self?
Then, with the same speed he showed earlier, his real self sommersaulted away from his blade range, and with a single fluid action, grabbed his blade and slashed the doppelganger across his abdomen.
There was no blood, no pain, nothing. The doppelganger staggered, and fell headfirst to the ground, his hood coming off at the same time. His other caught a glimpse of his adversary and gasped.
It was like looking into a mirror.
The doppelganger's last thoughts before he faded into the nothingness he came from were simple.
He who knows nothing can understand nothing.

Inspired by the Roxas Sora face off in Kingdom Hearts 2. Wonder if it actually makes sense.

Alley to the in between

Sorry guys, been too busy playing Kingdom Hearts 2 that I haven't been updating. Not that anyone cares anyway, this is more of a silent monologue nowadays. Still, let's keep this charade up a bit longer for a while till I decide to can it permanently. If I do so in the end that is.
Life is incredibly unfufilling. Apart from investing 38 hours of my life in KH2, which to me sometimes it feels like a royal waste of time or I get great joy from playing it. Such conflicting emotions. But it is a great game. The plot was great as well, once you get past the world police portions. Definately would recommend it to others.
How's things on your side? My course is going smoothly, been passing all the tests which frankly I never really put a lot of effort into studying for them, been lugging the huge 1000 odd page book on first aid home most of the book outs but never going as much as to open the plastic bag I packed it inside. Such is my arrogance and foolishness. But having said that the course is interesting at times, it's a nice refreshing break from the medical centre, which can be a real pressure cooker at times. Days on course are spent supposedly listening in lectures, napping during meal times, talking cock from 7 plus till lights out, have also been actively reading novels again, thanks to the abundance of free time i have in camp. Also managed to catch up with my backlog of time and newsweek magazines, but not forbes. Will hopefully do so in time.
Now am currently on attachment to ambulances and AH. Been an uneventful attachment so far, but it's been interesting as it does help me look at how healthcare is really handled in the outside world. Interestingly, I found out it isn't too dissimilar to how it is in my medical centre.
Well, here's looking to ORD in nov. Maybe I'll find something along the way to that light at the end of the tunnel.

Unforgivable

Hey guys, my long absence from this place will be even longer as I'm now on course back in the good old nee soon camp. Currently doing my level 2 paramedic course till may 17th. Will post interesting stories if I encounter on the weekends when I book out, till then take care people.
Oh and yeah, Kingdom Hearts 2 comes on on tues, FF12 is out in Japan. Can't wait to wield 2 keyblades come this weekend...

My life to live not yours

Well well, the furore over the internet of this girl who filmed herself having sex with her boyfriend and subsequently had her phone stolen and the clip distributed over the internet thus gaining internet notoriety. Normally I loathe to jump on the bandwagon and comment about such inane stuff, nevertheless I feel strongly enough to write about it here.
First of all, let's establish that it was a personal clip. I'm not interested in what people do in the dark corners of their rooms. I mean as I sit here writing there are millions of people engaging in coitus now so why feel surprised that people out there are getting some?
Maybe it's because of the age of the person involved. Oh c'mon, walk into any army camp you can hear NSFs exchanging stories about their conquests. Don't be a prune. Like it or not your precious sons and daughters are engaging in coitus with you in your ignorant bliss.
I must say that I don't condone premarital sex, but I believe it's the right of an individual to mess up their own lives in their own self destructive way. I don't intend to take any moral high ground or anything like that, I just believe if your actions don't affect me directly you are very welcome to press the self destruct in your life. So people please, unless you're her parents and have a duty to tell her what to do, just lay off, and maybe you would like to find out what junior has been doing at that friend's house other than that very hard to complete "project".
Besides, again this is a sign we have yet to progress as a nation. Instead of talking about the death of a national icon, budget 2006 or basically something more important, we're engaging in idle chatter about a girl's personal life.
However, what I REALLY took offence to was that a newspaper interviewed a religious leader who offered his views about the incident. Granted, some people may think he is an authority on the degradation of teenage moral values, but lest I forgot, aren't we a secular society? By only interviewing him and no other religious leaders is the newspaper trying to say that the religion he supports is the de facto religion in singapore? And what the religious leader said could be interpreted as "if the girl had been a member of his religion she wouldn't have done such a thing" I felt such a comment was unnecessary. The incident has already happened, and it just feels like a thinly veiled attempt at trying to promote this religion above others. Singapore is a secular society, hell you're not even allowed to play worship songs in camp, so why this blatant promoting of one religion above the others? Note I'm no bigot but friends know I have strong beliefs about religion. However, that does not mean I do not respect a person's religion. It's just that I take offence to the blatant promotion by a supposedly secular newspaper. So those ready to hang me or burn me at the stake please stay your murderous hands as I mean no harm.
So, fellow citizens of singapore, please get off your moral high horse. It's a free world, if people want to screw up their lives, unless you're their guardian and thus you shall gain embarrassment by proxy thus would be obliged to stop their self destruction, just let those who wish to destroy their lives go ahead. Don't get a messianic complex and think you can save everyone. Not everyone may want to be saved.

You can't be that good a person and be well adjusted

So says Dr Gregory House.
Been a real lousy day. Not the worst day, but it can be ranked up there. I deleted a paragraph or so of entry as I'm afraid someone may read it, so you can tell the extend I've fallen to... Whatever happend to the cavalier Zhao Yang who never shunned away from making a controvesial comment?
I feel so... lousy. I've lied, cheated, backstabbed, and worst of all compromised my principles and morals, and justify my actions being essential for self-survival. I may think I'm smart to survive in this harsh world but I'm actually just a simple coward. I hate myself for having fallen to where I am now. I live a schizophernic life, and I know my true self seems to be hidden away, never to be shown to anyone that can potentially hurt me. There are days I just don't want to get out of bed to face the day.
Yet I still do so. I still get out of bed to face the challenges of the day, no matter how soul destorying it is...
Perhaps that's the price of being well adjusted, the goodness of me will slowly be ebbed away by the rising tide of cynicism until all that is left is mere shadow of the person I was, and will never be...
Still waiting for that better tommorrow..

That time of the year again

As i stoned away in paya lebar air base waiting for my turn to take my annual medic profiency test, I perused today's papers and ended up with the urban section. In there they had a valentine's day special about 4 guys who are supposedly very eligible bachelors and why they are single this valentine's day. It was a rather interesting read, and it stirred up some old emotions and made me think.
As I approach the 20th valentine's day of my life again dateless (no surprise there), I can't help but feel pensive about my lack of a love life. It's not because I'm yearning for a relationship, I believe I have gone past that point, where now I see that being in a relationship is no panecea, no miracle drug that will make you feel better. A relationship requires effort and time, and sometimes once the rose tinted glasses go off, it ends in tears or quiet resignation.
It's not that I've turned my back to love either. I believe it's an emotion that will keep us going, an emotion similar to hope, with love comes purpose, one's will be strengthened by wanting to protect the ones he love, provide them with a good life etc.
Perhaps I have ended up in an emotional crossroad, where I don't know where can I go from this point. No more schoolboy crushes, no more doing stupid things in the hope of getting her attention, I grimace when I think of my past deeds.
I do believe that the other person that you think love is just a body of thoughts, like i said in my previous post, a person you think that once you get into a relationship with the person, you get rid of your miseries and have fufilled all your desires. To a certain extent it's true, but it brings with you more problems as well.
I don't know if you can classify me as being fatigued, confused, or a loser who's just lamenting over his lack of ability to get a date and trying to act all philosphical to try and cover up that fact.
On the 14th I have volunteered to do duties for most of my campmates as most of them are attached, my doctor who had a RT cover on that day changed his to a later date, and when he informed us medics about it, he inserted this line into his email, "hey aren't you glad I'm not going to drag one of you with me on the 14th to sulk with me? of course it wouldn't matter for zhao yang anyway.. :)"
There was one ocassion where my campmates were all gathering around discussing the plans they have for valentine's day, one said he's taking his girlfriend to walk around the esplanade area, one's said he's taking her to mount faber to see stars, one was getting ideas from the ideas. Then, inevitably, the conversation veered towards poking fun at the perpetually dateless me, the only girlfriend-less person in the camp. As usual I'll just smile and laugh off their comments, but one of them asked me a question that set me thinking, "zhao yang, surely you like some girls or are good friends with them, just get one of them to be your girlfriend la!" or something to that effect.
Indeed why not? I must confess there are times I felt this way about some of my friends, but thank the heavens I have never acted on such reckless impulses. I think that just getting anyone, any person to be in a relationship with you is just irresponsible. I know if I did that it'll be just to fill that void in my heart and nothign else. That is totally selfish I feel. In such a relationship nothing good can come out of it and once the honeymoon period is over, all you're left with is just bittersweet memories. But they countered, "you're not marrying her!" and "consider such stuff after you're in a relationship".
Well, both points are valid I guess, but still maybe I'm just too cowardly to go and create those bittersweet memories. This post will most likely make you think I'm an idiot who thinks too much or an absoulte loser who's trying to justify why he can't get a girlfriend and comforting himself by coming up with an elaborate and convulated theory about it.
Come 14th feb, I'll be glad to be in camp, away from the lovey dovey couples in esplanade or mount faber gazing at stars or what nots, away from the sights of affection, away from the candle lit resturants, away from the ubiquitious roses, and yet, the desire to join in with them will not go away.

Body of thoughts

Somehow I think that, if one thinks too much for too long, they start to imagine things and if it happens often enough, it becomes reality in the person's mind, thus affecting the person's abiliy to make good decisions.
I believe I fell victim to such impulses.
Well, all i can say now, now that the dust has finally settled, that she was a body of thoughts, the physical manifestation of my deepest desires and fears, a mere proxy of my misguided attempts for happiness.

Kiss Me Goodbye

By Angela Aki
Theme song of Final Fantasy XII

You said my love is all you need,
See you through
But I know these words are not quite true.

Here is the path you're looking for
An open door
Leading to worlds you long to explore

I'll give you wings to fly,
Cast all your fears into the sky
Kiss me goodbye, love's mystery
All of my life I'll hold you close to me
Don't shed a tear for love's mortality
For you put the dream in my reality

Kiss me goodbye, love's memory
You put the dream in my reality

I'm a sucker for love ballads combined with epic stories.

20 and counting

T H E B I R T H D A Y S O N G
Written by Corrinne May Ying Foo
Copyright 2003, Corrmay Gourmet Music (ASCAP)

Don't worry about that extra line
That's creeping up upon your face
It's just a part of nature's way to say you've grown a little more
Trees have rings and thicker branches
Kids shoes get a little tighter
Every year we're getting closer to who we're gonna be
It's time to celebrate the story of how you've come to be

Happy Birthday, my friend
Here's to all the years we've shared together
All the fun we've had
You're such a blessing
Such a joy in my life
May the good Lord bless you
And may all your dreams come true

So light a candle on your cake
For every smile you've helped create
For every heart and every soul you've helped to grow
A little more
A few more pounds, a little more grey
Don't count the years, just count the way
It takes a little time to go from water into wine
Don't ever lose the wonder of that child within your eyes

Happy Birthday, my friend
Here's to all the years we've shared together
All the fun we've had
You're such a blessing
Such a joy in my life
May the good Lord bless you
And may all your dreams come true

I guess this song says it all. Happy birthday to me. 20 and counting, here's to more whimisical whining and thoughts...

Wasted..

I just caught the campus superstar episode that was playing on tv just now. The 4th female contestant sang the song I am very into now, Gong Si Jia's Zai Yi CI Yong You, as I said in one of my previous posts. AS she sang, I could genuinely feel the emotion, the sense of loss and regret emoting from that young voice of hers. She was easily the best performing female contestant.
Then when it came for the judges to critique her performance, the third judge said something that struck me. She said, "I don't know if a 15-16 year old has had the necessary life experiences to be able to sing a song about a great love lost..."
Well, in my opinion, judging from the raw emotion she displayed in her voice and expression, apparently a lot...


20 years and counting...
Thanks to all those that remembered, it was nice to get all those calls, sms, msn greetings etc. I really did appreciate the greetings.

To have it once again

I've been rather enchanted by a chinese song from a singaporean artist Gong Si Jia's Zai Yi Ci Yong You (loosely translated as "let me have it once again"). It's a song pining for lost love, but yet it strikes a chord with me with its lyrics about loss and how you would do anything, anything just to regain it.
Once again I trawl the Internet world aimlessly in the death of the night, resisting the urge to turn in for the night and hence face the next day. Some idle clicking led me to some of old classmates' blogs, which out of boredom decided to peruse them.
I shouldn't have.
Somehow their words, felt alien yet familiar. Some of them have gone on to different things, either studying overseas or in different army camps. They express their thoughts and emotions about their vastly different lives that I no longer play any significant part in. Once I was a classmate whom you could have canteen breaks with, borrow notes to copy from, have lunches in ghim moh or copy tutorials from; now perhaps I'm just relegated to being a saved contact on the handphone, a face in that school photo, or just a mere hazy memory.
Maybe they just forget me. But I know that is not true, as I myself have started to forget people. It's been a year since I left school for the big bad world, and I've lost touch with many, far too many. Sometimes I wonder how they're doing, but it's never more than a few seconds of curious thought, before my brain returns to stuff more immediate and direct.
This I got from a friend's blog about what I wore for prom in 2004.
"Zyang (my name i guess, great way of ensuring people don't google it) looked nothing but unglam in his sharked skin coloured suit courtesy of his dad. He didn't look like a shark but he did look like a fashion disaster. Horrible taste. However, that did not stop him from winning the 5th prize of a digital camera in the lucky draw, perhaps a good way of the glitzy night in mocking him by making him go up on stage."
Well if that friend of mine sees this, for the record I kinda agree with him. I'm just an idiot when it comes to dressing. So really since you spoke the truth there's really nothing for me to be upset about.
And well, a part of me is compelling me to defend myself as to why I chose that suit, yet another part of me tells me to let it go.
Reading blogs of others, especially those who are candid about people, really let you take a look at how people view you. When they say bad things about you, you may want to immediately defend yourself, try to justify your actions, as you feel that you as a person have been violated, but maybe sometimes it's the truth, which hurts bad.
Another thing I learned from reading blogs is that no matter how different our lives are now, we still share common problems and desires. We longed to be cherished, we get frustrated over things, we are saddened by loss, we hide our true selves from the world lest they try to hurt us, we lie, cheat, backstab to protect ourselves, we love or hate each other, we stare from afar those with seemingly perfect lives and sigh "why can't that be me?", we yearn for acceptance, we are all but the same.
The clock strikes 2.00 am.
Another day with the "Organisation" beckons.
This quagmire never ends.

Ode to the disenfranchised

Ever got the feeling the whole world has moved on and somehow you were inexplicably left behind?
There's this recurring vision, brought upon when you're sub conscious, as a result of having lucid dreams, where you're standing by an unknown river, wearing a cardigan and a scarf staring out in the distance, the city lights reflecting off the surface of the river. For a few, precious seconds, it would seem that the world would truly belong to you only, the maddening crowd far away from you, and a sense of calm would fall over you.
Then those fleeting moments of peace would be cruelly taken from you, the illusion shattered by your alarm clock screeching in your ear to get up and face another day. You wake not with trepidation, but with hope. Maybe today will be a good day.
You groggily get up and wash up, savouring the last few moments of that delightful dream, before shrugging it off as a mere dream and by the time you put on your clothes and rushed out of the door, you would have forgotten the bulk of that dream, mind now filled with thoughts about the coming day.
You immerse yourself in the hustle and bustle of work. It makes you feel important, as you try to effectively multi-task and do many areas of work at the same time. As 5 o'clock comes, you drag yourself out of your workplace, exhausted, perhaps due to work, but probably more likely due to the politicking you had to endure.
You walk past the blank faces of other people returning home from work. You glance at couples being all lovey-dovey, you react by quickening your step and looking away. Yet you secretly harbour hope that the next good looking guy or girl would somehow for some reason or another be besotted with you. You tsk at those youths wearing their school uniform disrespectfully while engaging in open displays of emotion for each while strolling down aimlessly orchard road when in your opinion they should be back home studying, yet you secretly lament the fact that you spent far too much time hitting the books and never had the chance to let loose somewhat. You hanker for those uncomplicated school days when all you worried about was studies and whether the girl/guy you had a crush on would like you.
You slow your footsteps. You can feel the energy swirling around the neighbouring mall, the business, the noise, the activity of it all; you don't want to go home so soon, you just want to stay behind, let the crowd take away some of the loneliness you feel. But you know such an act is hollow, as it just serves to artificially fill up the void in your heart. You tell yourself not to be such a weakling, that you should just suppress such feelings and head home, where more important chores like laundry await you. Yet, in the face of such irrefutable logic, you dally for that 5 minutes more, before turning your back to that soulless place.
Home is where the defences of the day come down, no more masks, no more make up, no more fake pretenses. You relax, put on some relaxing music, do your chores before settling down to perhaps watch a bit of TV, surf the net for a while, or read a book. Your eyes may be closing, your mind shutting down, every nerve fibre of your body asking to just lie upon that inviting bed and give yourself up to merciful slumber, but yet you refuse its advances, as you know once your eyes close for the last time today, when you open them again the same cycle of madness will repeat itself again, and despite your body's pleas you resist the urge to sleep, in a feeble attempt to put off the inevitable.
Then, when you finally surrender, you run through what happened today, and realise that chances are, tomorrow will be another carbon copy of today.
Then you ask yourself, why do I bother to get up then?
You answer your own question.
You bother to get up as tomorrow may be a better day than today.
Something good may happen to you tomorrow, who's to know?
Safe in that knowledge, you let your mind drift off again.
Next thing you know, yet another dream will be shattered by the screeching of the alarm clock.
Time to face another day.
You wake not with trepidation, but with hope.
Maybe today will be a better day.

Free

By Corrine May


I see the morning glory
It winds upon the tree
It tells the untold story of how things were meant to be
You saw the universe
Caught up in desperate dreams
You came and changed the ending
Changed it to save my fate
You led the revolution
You left your legacy
Embraced the struggle
in the face of mortality
I know I'm not alone in this
Help me believe

I can be free
I can be free from this place
Beautiful healer
Beautiful grace
Help me to see
Everything fall into place
Wake me from dreaming
No more deceiving
Break these chains

It's still the same old story
This great divide
Between the want and waste
And all the hunger inside
I heard the news today
Now I'm trying to find my place
I'm just a single voice
What can I do to erase

All this misunderstanding
All this anarchy
Six degrees of separation
Sometimes it's so hard to see
That we are not alone in this
I need to believe

I can be free
I can be free from this place
Beautiful healer
Beautiful grace
Help me to see
Everything fall into place
Wake me from dreaming
No more deceiving
Break these chains

Somehow i can empathise with this song greatly. Must be the plight I'm in now. I spent my 16 hour flights to and from canada listening to corrine may's safe in a crazy world and trying to drift off to a blissful, dreamless sleep.
Strangely enough, the song has a strong message of hope despite its rather depressing tone. Perhaps the reason why I'm so enamoured with it could be due to its eventual hopeful nature. That elusive light at the end of that often very dark and endless tunnel. The helping hand when you're down in the dumps.
Well, enough musing. There's another dark tunnel to go through tomorrow.

I wonder who remembers this time around...

Out in the cold

He hated lip balm.
He hated the sticky feeling it left on his lips, which caused him to subconsciously open his mouth ever so wide, thus making him look horrendous in photos. He hated the taste of it, the stain it leaves when he drank from cups, the strong smell of mint it gave off.
And most of all, he hated the trouble it causes, having to apply it all the time, lest he wants his sensitive lips to crack while on holiday in temperate Canada.
And yet now here he was, standing out in the frigid cold, applying copious amounts of lip balm on his dry lips, and for once not complaining mentally about how uneasy it made him feel.
He wrapped his jacket him closer as another gust of cold wind blew past him. Strangely enough, his body shivered, but his mind did not feel the cold, it hardly even acknowledged its presence, instead he cast his eyes over the railing and moved towards it. He rested his elbows on the railing and looked across the river to the other side, where the bright lights of the city sparkled and shined. From his vantage point, he could not feel the hustle and bustle of the big city, instead the city lights reflecting off the ruffled surface of the river gave him a calm feeling which served to calm his nerves somewhat.
He fished the paper from his right pocket out. Written neatly on that piece of hotel paper were the words, “Meet me at the Riverside at 12 midnight” (The Riverside was a part of the hotel which allowed patrons to view the riverside) It was unsigned, and it was slipped under his hotel room door around 11 p.m. He only noticed it when he came out of the bathroom after his bath, and first thought it was just a prank and wanted to dismiss it, but an inexplicable feeling came over him, convincing him to just go and meet this mysterious person. So instead of hopping into bed, he got dressed and there he was now, shivering in the cold.
He glanced at his watch. 0002H. Maybe it was a hoax after all, a method to trick unsuspecting and gullible tourists like him of precious sleep. Maybe it was a left over note that was never cleared. Maybe it was placed through the wrong door.
In the death of the night, there was no one at the balcony but him. Still, he thought, even if it was just a prank, he managed to look at the magnificent cityscape in the night. Sighing, he rested his head in his cupped palms and slumping against the cold railing. Like many times when he saw breathtaking sights like these, he would invariably think, “Wish I could share this sight with someone else.”
“Hey.”
It was so sudden, so out of the blue that he didn’t react immediately. He merely dismissed it as his lonely heart trying to strike up a conversation with his sub-consciousness to get rid of the deafening silence. So he merely just turned towards the direction he thought it came from, and stopped cold.
The voice belonged to the girl in his tour group.
She stood at the entrance of the Riverside, smiling.
“Hey.” She repeated.
He could only numbly say “Hello” in return.
There were a million thoughts swimming around in his head, but oddly enough, the thought that dominated his brain was, “She’s beautiful.”
Her shoulder length hair was untied, unlike in the day during the tour, where she keeps her hair in a neat ponytail. She had pretty brown eyes, those that emote extremely depending on her mood. He saw them light up in joy when she found the souveneir she wanted in the gift shop, glower fiercely at the stranger who was rude to her, and cloud over with concern when she momentarily thought her younger brother was lost when he actually went back to the coach before her.
She had dainty hands, fair complexion and a radiant smile. She had the girl next door innocence, but yet she exudes a quiet confidence and independence, being the eldest of three siblings. She had come along this trip with her parents and her siblings, and she acted mostly as a responsible elder sister, keeping watch on her siblings and having fun with them. She was also of a gregarious and cheerful personality, as evidenced by the fact she would always help the elderly of out tour group carry their luggage.
In short, she was someone way out his reach. He only looked at her from afar on a few occasions, but never actually taken the effort to engage with her in conversation. Everytime he tried, her parents or siblings would be in attendance and he would lose the courage before slinking away deflated.
And yet she was here, in the flesh, in front of him, untied hair swaying in the wind, her eyes staring into his, hands behind her back.
It must be some dream, he thought.
I don’t even know her name!, he thought.
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
She was still there.
Deciding that maybe this was real, a bolt of realisation hit him. He managed to sputter out, “The note…it was you?”
She gave a chuckle, looked away for a while before turning back and smiling at him. He felt his knees weaken. Suddenly he wondered why did the place feel so hot. He smiled nervously back.
She bowed her head and took three steps forward, then she looked into his eyes again.
“I have noticed you looking at me over these few days.” She said.
His mind exploded in a mess of frantic thoughts. Deny adamantly? Admit and see what happens? Or act blur? A flash of panic came over him, which escalated each time she walked closer to him. She was now face to face with him, so much so he could smell her fragrance, gaze deeper into those mesmerising eyes of hers, feel the heat from her body. Bizarrely, he wanted to take her into his arms and hold her tight, perhaps in a vain attempt to try and protect her from the harsh cold temperatures.
“I… I…” was all he managed to say, before she silenced him with a finger to his lips. He was thoroughly confused now, not to mention very flustered.
The next thing he knew, he felt her warm lips on his; they placed themselves ever so softly on them, a moment which lasted merely a second, yet felt like a century for him. In that short, wonderful instant, it was no longer night, it was the brightest of days, all other thought were gone from his mind, all was left was a longing for the moment to never end.
But it did, and the world swam into reality again. He looked at her face. She wore a shy look, her face blushing slightly, perhaps due to the cold and what she just did. She went back to staring at the ground again.
Then she reached out and grabbed his right hand softly, her dainty hands felt like the purest of silk on his. She placed her palm over his, leaving a note behind before closing his fist for him. She gave him one more smile, before turning away from him and started to walk slowly away, back to the entrance.
The wind still tugged on her hair as she, according to him, floated away from him slowly.
Dumbfounded, he looked at the paper in his hand. Written in the same neat handwriting on the same type of hotel paper were these simple words.
Call me when we return to Singapore. 96578254
He stared at that piece of paper for a full second. Then he called out to her.
“Hey!”
She stood at the exit, door open and one foot inside, ready to enter.
“At least tell me your name.”
She smiled.
He was now of the opinion that she had the greatest smile on Earth.
“Christine.”
And then she was gone, the door swung shut behind her, leaving him alone. Yet again.
Dumbly, he felt his lips and remembered the moment they just shared.
He never hated lip balm again.

Please note that this account is a work of fiction and it does not mean that such an incident or anything similar happened to me. It was something inspired by my trip when I looked out of the window of my hotel room when I couldn't sleep at 2 am in the morning canadian time due to jet lag. Hope you guys enjoyed.

The twilight road to dawn

Well guys, I know I'm very guilty of not keeping this place updated regularly that I'm sure no one reads it now, which is sort of a boon I guess so those nosy people from the "organisation" will not find out of my alternative views and send me off to do regimental training for a long long time... In any case, I just came back from a trip to canada, 11 days spent mostly in the coach sleeping off the jetlag, frigid winds of temperatures ranging from -26 to 10 degrees, ice skating and landing on my butt heavily a lot of times, family bonding that bordered on the dysfunctional, but above all a break from the tiresome routines of my usual life.
And all good things must come to an end, and it did, and now I'm back to what it used to be.
Well, it's going to be christmas again, the most depressing time of the year for people like me who don't have anyone to look at the christmas lights with, which incidentally is merely 2 streets away from my home and I've yet to look at them.
Nevertheless, I should welcome the new year in the company of good friends, and with my birthday coming up, it promises to be a good 2006. Bring it on. Come november, it'll be freedom...

Here's to everything else

First off, the rumors of my demise have been rather exaggerated, but I don't think I can say the same about my readership, if I had any in the first place.
Been rather unwilling to blog, as the desire to whine about the quagmire I'm in is far too great. However, relax, I shall refrain from doing so in this entry.
Been reading my old entries in my blog, laughing at some and almost hemorrhaging at some. It's been a 180 degree change for me since then. Those far more carefree days where I only worried about homework. Yes, I feel considerably less stress now, but I also feel less drive as well. The desire to go out there to grab the day by the scruff of the neck and make it worthwhile getting out of bed is non-existent. Perhaps the only redeeming quality of my situation is the fact I get to pick the brains of professionals and actually learn something instead of just rotting my two years away.
A short update on my life. Still in that medical centre, but things are a changing, what with new management and new rules. I just hope some stuff remain status quo, while the not so pleasant stuff get consigned to the dustbin of lousy ideas. But it's a bit hard to expect much, we all know the speed of change, especially positive change, is slower than molasses on a cold day in the "Organisation". (I've taken to using such "terms" lest I incur the wrath of higher ranking people who I frankly don't give a damn about but have the unfortunate ability to punish me for my rather alternative views.)
It's been quite a year. Thinking back, I've grown up faster in this 1 year than my previous 18. That I give the "organisation" credit, but I doubt they went out of their way to do so. They dragged many in, some kicking and screaming, some with resignation, some all too eager. I think I fall under the 2nd catergory.
I think I've grown more selfish along the way. Let me rephrase that, I have become more protective of myself. I've come to realise you can friendly with someone, and that person maybe your friend, but you still have look out for yourself and not expect him to do so as he'll be doing that for himself as well. And even he does, He has his own interests at heart that's why he's doing so. Not precisely what we all want to hear, but it's saddeningly true. I've been played out by a few people before, but I've grown wiser now.
I'm rather lucky I can go home when I'm off duty. Singyong has just been packed off to thailand for a whooping 9 months. I can't just imagine myself eating, sleeping and breathing the "organisation" 24/7 for 9 months. They might as well lock me up in an asylum. At least if I had a crappy day, I can still go home and sleep on my own bed and relax away and not having to worry if a rat will come to nibble on my toes or if some guy who's not supposed to be in the medical centre will break into my locker and steal my wallet.
Slightly less than a year before I'll be released from my service. It is my utmost hope that the coming year will peter out with nary a significant incident, with no one from the organisation bothering me too much, and I'll spend my free time on my edification, so come 071106 I'll be ready for my next challenge.
And of course, here comes the inevitable resolution to blog more often as well. All those taking A/O levels, good luck!

Emotionally void

"I'm in pain..", he said, with a heavy, resigned voice, one that didn't deserve to belong to someone so young.
She merely smiled.
"Aren't we all?" she said, before turning away, walking away from his life forever.

10 years from now

Ok, yet another project started then ultimately abandoned. I realise it's quite hard for me to sustain interest in writing nowadays. Nevertheless, this piece, produced in around 2 hours i think, well the guys would get the in-jokes, the rest of the world would probably wonder what the hell I'm writng about.

The letter came two days later, like they said it would. Mix up at the post office was the cause, same reason every year why he always receive Christmas cards from them on the 26th. It was white, plain, edges were yellowed, probably picked up in bulk during a closing down sale of some stationary shop. Scrawled on the letter using a cheap ball point pen which has seen many a major exam, the ink not running smoothly on the surface, instead hard pressure marks marred the surface, were his name, his present address that hasn’t changed for 10 years, and the notable addition of the title “mister” in front of his name. The letter held a triple folded letter, which presented quite officially, what with the school’s address and emblem on the right, and the group’s emblem on the left. He smiled wryly to myself, they must be still using the same format since our time. I guess it’s good to know that some things don’t change with time, even if it is just something as insignificant as a letter’s format.
The content of the letter was as simple as its appearance, besides he knew what it was about way before hand anyway. They always kept him informed about such gatherings, and something as important as their 10th anniversary would have been announced way before hand to accommodate their busy schedules. The letter served merely as a formality, a way to subtly remind the absent-minded. They needn’t have worried though, the date was long marked out on his calendar and he wasn’t intending to miss the gathering for the world.
He placed the letter down, pressed the button for the intercom and asked his secretary to RSVP for me immediately. Flipping the letter open once again, the white sheet of paper was glimmering in the strong mid day sun that flooded his office, but the black and white emblem seemed to dance with energy in the brilliant light; it seemed to be delighted to find that this sheep has decided to return to its fold.
The emblem seemed to beckon to him, like it wanted him to remember the times of yesteryear, the times of reckless youth and strong brotherhood, of grazed knees and broken hearts, of hikes in the pouring rain or push ups at 6 am in the morning. The impulse to revisit those times again was strangely strong, like a distant echo was resounding in his head, leading him on.
He subconsciously reached for the phone, but withdrew his hand halfway. Somehow he felt this was a journey down memory lane he had to go down himself.

The location hasn’t changed, but the interior was drastically different. He had been here a few times before for previous gatherings, and always looked on with a profound sense of loss whenever another part of his time here was destroyed and replaced with newer, alien buildings. Another sign of the waves of change, old fogies like himself who hold on to the past too much shouldn’t be allowed to witness such callous disregard to a person’s memories.
He found the old gathering place, but it was now nothing but a musty storeroom, with a menacing “Do not enter” sign pasted on the door. The coat of uneven green that was applied during his time was peeling, its old lustre had faded, the emblem which used to be placed proudly on the door was absent. The lock which required a bit of finger gymnastics to open, the chin up bar wrapped in tape which he hardly used as he in his delusion deemed himself too tall to use it, were gone as well.
A yell shook him out of his thoughts. A stern looking portly security guard came racing towards him on a bicycle, stopping inches away from a head-on collision, and proceeded to aggressively accuse him of trying to enter the storeroom and stealing all the precious things the group’s storeroom has to offer. And as a final volley, he gleefully said he intended to report this incident to the headmaster and he’ll, quote unquote, “be in big trouble”.
Chuckling to himself, he concocted some story about being a special consultant hired by the group to give them a talk and got lost finding their adobe. Having smooth talked his way out of trouble, he set a course for the group’s new den, after receiving directions from the notably disappointed security guard, who grunted loudly and rode off on his bicycle, muttering incomprehensible but aggressive sounding words, no doubt setting off in hope of finding prey that would be more easily intimidated.
He smiled to himself again. Looks like another thing that hasn’t changed was the school’s penchant for hiring overweight grumpy security guards who patrolled the school on bicycles threatening everyone with a personal audience with the headmaster.
He found the place. It was spacious; the smell of new paint was still strong. As it was a late weekday afternoon, there were just a small gathering of students there, the younger ones in white shorts playing carrom; the older ones listening to the music blasting from the hi-fi while doing homework. They were hesitant about letting him enter at first, as the rule about not letting non-members in still stood, but he quickly identified himself and said he was here just to look for something.
He wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to look for, nor whether whatever he was looking for could be found here anymore. He was looking for memories, how does one go about looking for something so nebulous? For the first time since the impulse to be here seemed to be waste of time, looking for something long gone.
Sure enough, he found nothing. Everything he turned up was far too new, too modern for him. The photos had unknown faces, the people participated in new activities, even the names of the patrols we used to be in have been altered. Maybe it was a meant to be a fruitless trip after all.
But somehow he sensed that he was looking in the wrong places. The white washed walls of this new and spacious den carried the vibes of the new generation but none of the echoes of the past. To find what he wanted he had to return to where it was the last time.
He got the quartermaster to open the old den, and entered it with a flashlight. The layout was strangely the same, the sofas however were more torn, the message board bare, where once there was a rickety table is now a pile of codemned stores like broken tent pegs, torn A-frames and rusted mess tins.
He stood on a chair and opened the upper cupboards, where they used to be held. Strangely enough, those tomes of yesteryear, some yellowed, some faded, some bitten away by insects but still mostly intact, lay there, a thick film of dust covering each and every one of them. He took one of them, dusted it down, tested the sofa to see whether it could still take his weight, before sinking into it, allowing the memories to come back to him.

24 hours too little

Ok, somehow life has this irritating tendency to throw you curveballs. When I whined about the lack of time to do stuff, here comes 1 whole big pile of stuff each I want to devote attention to, but just have not been able to do so.

1) My UK applications. What with imperfect information and the very tight deadline, plus the fact I've alreayd left school thus severed a very important link, this is my current top priority as the forms have to by hook or crook leave singapore by sept 12. I forsee myself taking off to settle this.
2) My regular driving lessons. Speaking of which, today I must have hit a milestone and many a kerb in the history of bad driving. I could have killed myself 10 times over today. My instructor was thoroughly disgusted.
3) Fix the computers in my house. At least the laptop is now once again up and running, but the other computers are down and thus all of us will clambour to use this main unit.
4) Advanced theory test. Must go and do the trial test then the test itself.
5) Various anime series. Almost at the end of full metal panic 1, still have fumouffu, last exile, hellsing? left after borrowing from neil. Also just got wing and am itching to watch that.
6) FF7. Playing now, printed the faq, all 77 pages of it, thanks to a very cooperative printer and an abundance of copy paper.
7) Waiting for the Strike Freedom and Infinte Justice models to come out to join up with my Destiny. May get Andy's Gaia custom or Akatsuki as well, kind of partial to these two.

Will add more once I remember.

Bus ride

Streetlight after streetlight,
casting their soft glow,
not enough to blind one's sight,
illuminating the head propped against the clear window.

Constant is the rumble of the engine,
the wheels grinning against the asphalt,
shaking, trembling, jolting, on it still steamed,
no change on the sea of blank faces even if it halts.

Behind couples entwine in their saccharine world,
housewives shake heads and gossip,
clubbers pout and pose, dressing bold,
elderly struggle to hang on amidst taken seats.

Salarymen with worry etched on their faces,
schoolgirls blush and giggle,
poseurs with low cut jeans and funky laces,
and those who blab loudly into their cellphones right in the middle.

With every hiss of the door,
more would pour in,
all types, all kinds, steps on the floor,
neither kith nor kin.

Away from the maddening crowd,
the seat beside me is empty.
The silence is loud,
and the reality is far too obvious, even for me.

Ng Zhao Yang
12.07 a.m. 16/08/05

I'm back. And how.

Now, we each go our separate ways

Well, ed's flying off on the 22nd, mog disrupted for medicine some time ago, don is in Australia earning his wings, most of us are stuck in the quagmire of NS.
Today, en route to air force school for the wet winching briefing, we stopped by MMI to drop Raymond off first. Somehow, as I stared at the hallowed halls of NUS through my wrecked up MID vehicle, those all too familiar pangs of jealousy and envy came over me. I'm sure if I took a walk around the premises I would have seen plenty of my former schoolmates. It's the same feeling I get everytime my dad drops Bertram off at RI, I stare longingly at the pearly gates of RJ until the car speeds off and whisks me to the comparatively duller sembawang air base medical centre.
Mog said some of the people in medicine now are according to him, have yet to grow out of their JC times. My take on this is that, let's take an example from the jan 2005 batch of NSFs. Assuming that this person was from Hawk in BMT, then Delta in OCS and after that disrupting for medicine, he is therefore unlikely to meet those from the spectrum of society, hence their view of society would be less "realistic" as they have yet to see both sides of the coin. Thus, possibly therein lies an explanation for their behaviour.
I think it's high time to stop moping. I think I got back my old fighting spirit to do the best I can. I want to try to go for the medical spec course, be eligible to drive on the open roads by jan next year, and once that is done take up another course to improve myself. I want to also aim to enter Cambridge law. I want to recapture my writing ability again. I want to be the best. I want to fufil my potential. I don't want to rot my 2 years away. I want to make good use of these 2 years.
I guess it's no use moaning about my situation. Loads of other NSF are worse off, so I should take every chance to improve myself. All in all, I don't want to lose out to others who have worse schedules than me and yet still manage to do things.
No use dredging up the past. I shall go forward to that brighter future.

Bitter

Imagine, if you could for a while, you're standing in the middle of the road in the hot sun, wearing your uniform, carrying a rifle, and your purpose is to stop cars and other vehicles and examine whether the people inside have proper authorisation to enter the installation you're guarding. Boring work, don't you think so? Well, now imagine doing that for 2 years of life. Not just any 2 years of your life, but 2 years of your youth. 2 years of your youth spent looking into vehicles. Would anyone voluntarily accept that?
Everyday as i see the RPs in my base come in to report sick I'm really glad I ended up being a medic and not any other man position. At least by interacting with the doctors and medical personel and equipment I'm learning stuff that is useful eventually when I leave the army. I really can't imagine how I can cope if I was made a RP. I'll probably mope around the whole day bemoaning my fate.
These days, I wonder how my medical centre survived before. The story goes that, our quality check is coming soon hence all the regulars are in a frenzy trying to make the place proper and put up a good show for the auditors, which means more work for us NSF.
Herein lies the paradox. Let's use simple economics to explain this situation. Normally, in an outside organisation, there would be an incentive to work hard as by doing so one can shine and hence maybe gain a promotion or a raise. Switch it back to my context, there are hardly any incentives, as pay is linked to rank, and rank is only gained after you have spent a certain amount of time in the service, thus the incentive to work hard is non-existent. Therefore the rational economic being would choose instead to do nothing in the medical centre as either way he'll still get paid, will eventually get a higher rank and thus pay, and move closer to his ORD date. But however, there exists disincentives such as extras, DB etc to ensure that we still work.
Thus, with such a model in place, it is obvious that a rational economic being would only work to a level that is enough to ensure that he does not get any disincentives, but not so much as he does not get anything for working so hard. In short he'll just do the bare minimum each day, with the ultimate goal of finally working towards his ORD date. This model does not incoporate human behaviour, maybe some people take immense pride when they do things and insist on doing everything well. I used to be one of them, but I figured it's no point. It's a harsh reality that in the army one will never be rewarded tangibly for good work, but when something goes wrong we get it triplefold. So why bother? I rather spend time trying to prevent myself from getting into trouble. It's quite sad really, to let go of my values of "do it well or don't do it at all", but I blame the circumstances solely for turning me this way.
In conclusion, the amount and quality of work is very low. Along comes the quality check, which requires a greater quality of work than what is being done now. So how do the superiors, who's rice bowls are affected by this quality check, ensure that the quality of work increase? Not by giving incentives, as there is no way for thme at their level to increase the pay, but by upping the disincentives, like deducting our hard earned off, thus now the bare minimum level of work is raised.
Any economic student can tell you that incentives work way better than disincentives. Therefore, it is evident that such a system is woefully inefficient. There is no profit motive to wokr hard. In a sense there are parallels to communism and the principal agent problem, both of which are highly inefficient.
Simple economics.
Another bugbear is that rank equals right. I have changed my stance, you want me to respect your rank, act your rank, and understand your men. To all my friends who become doctors and come abck in 7 years time to serve as MOs, never forget 1 thing, you and the medics are the same, all NSFs. Understand that there are many places in this world he'd rather be than where he is now, and treat him like a human being. Be someone worthy of respect. I may follow your orders, but it maybe just because if I don't you can make things difficult for me, that's all. You treat me like a human being, I feel good, I would work hard for you. You treat me like dirt, I'll still do the work for you, but shabbily, but not until the point you can blame me for it.
There are some days I feel like telling them, "look, you're not paying me enough for me to worry about this" but I know if I say that I'll off to DB before an army sergeant can yell "insurbodination" in my face.
Also, to all those people who read until here and are starting to pick up the phone to call the military police to come and arrest me, I hereby state once again that I believe that national service should stay and it serves its purpose. My point is, those people commanding us NSFs should try to understand the NSF's psyche, and thus provide us with an environment where rational economic beings can be fully maximised.
Besides, at the end of the day, you may be the RSM but a lowly coporal could end up being a hotshot lawyer after he ORDs. :)