After longing for a day-off for as long as I can remember, I find myself stuck at home, watching anime and pulp fiction. Beats being outfield any day, but by how much remains insignificant.


People say you're happier not knowing anything


Last week's foray into the dense forest was probably one of the many yet to come. But it was the very first time Archer moved together as one unit. Which made it rather special in some sense. Staff Heng, Subash, me and Joseph. Staff's mentioned more than once about a possible post out at the end of this year, but before that, it seems we've got a rather versatile, and lame, team on our hands. We do get serious at times, but those moments during working are unfortunately far and few between.. and when Staff loses his temper.

It wasn't that terrible an outing; in fact, we'll be hoping for more of these particular mishaps. As a result of some 64235 that broke down repeatedly, the recovery found itself almost permanently posted in base, 46 SAR. I remember the torrid few hours, when I struggled myself against the unyielding transmission filter at 12 am. The rest were floating in dreamland somewhere, and it was only after a tremendous and unsuccessful attempt that I sought assistance. The vehicle broke down again barely 2 hours into it's new leash of life, and I admit I gloated. Slightly. I mean, it shows that I didn't screw up la. Thanks to that fag machine, we got to stay in a mosquito-free area, so the failed effort was worth it.

Sheesh, I'm happy with failure. That's terrible.

Staff was reading Harry Potter all the way. It's so absurd, that till now, the few of us can't laugh yet. It's those kind of things that shouldn't happen, but just did, and any human reaction seems insufficient to cover the extent of hilarity.

Other outfields are unbearable; we have to run after all the other vehicles, rush here and there, hide in the bushes. But after Jo pulled out the cut-off switch literally, which Staff casually mentioned was the first, and probably the least likely mistake to make, we got the excuse to stay stranded. And in the nights our eccentric IC entertained us with various stories from the past.. the people that came and left Archer, the different ICs that took over, the weirdos who remain distinctive till this day.. he's got a funny side to him; cute isn't the correct word, but it's grostequely close. I guess our fear of him has evaporated. Or that's perhaps because I can fix fan belts better than he can lol.


But I'm sure I won't be satisfied


Bitten all over by sand flies, assaulted by squadrons of blood-suckers even though the timespan was shortened drastically.. outfield or even camp seems a more real place now. As in, it's unbearable at times, and I can't help but miss civilian life, especially when sitting in bunk, staring out of the window as cars flash by in a small road. But life outside seems like a dream now. It's not something I can hold on to, depend upon to make some sense of how life is coming along.

The mere action of doing something, even though totally irrelevant to my future, something I don't really like.. seems something I have to do now. Something I can lose myself in. It's so simple it's meaningless: repair, obey, or get fucked. But at least I know the cause and consequence will always be there.


I just want to live the life that I choose that's all


Teck's flown off to England. I'm going to miss that chap, even though we still can talk through msn, and even dota sometimes. But I guess life's going to be like that.. people just come and go.

What's a life of English Lit going to be like? It's a path I've chosen to embark on. A second chance given purely due to merit. I'm beginning to think I don't deserve it. People with far better grades and working attitude were denied, and I did nothing to earn the place. Just 2 essays and 2 interviews.. what was it they saw in me; I really don't know.

Was it pity that swayed their hand? Or the unlikely potential they see, which eventually could prove a visual mishap.


Your speed is similar to mine


If a friendship was based on a game, what kind of friendship is that?

If the game is no longer enjoyed, and the bond that was there is now broken, does it mean it never existed?

But it's true I guess. We need fun and games to hold us together. A purpose shared mutually by both parties. So we can really say "hey we're in the same shit together. That makes us comrades of some sort." Because you understand how I suffer, so I want your empathy. It makes perfect sense.

We make use of each other as stepping stones. There is no such thing as reaching above, or dropping below; only the direction one wants to go.


I become afraid of the endless sky


It's not the end yet, but I'm nearing it.

Subash came over last night, before Swee Lee left. Spent some time savouring some Redbull vodka, which tastes not bad. But it was rather an anti-climax; we forgot to call Joseph over, and two guys drinking is never fun.

Hence, my 2IC decided to irritate a ghost from the past.

I've seen Anuja quite a few times at Dr Chan's in the past. But hardly a word has been exchanged, which is quite a surprise, since we got on rather well during the first three months. She used to call me "chinese high boy", and I did return the same favour, though hers was quite a mouthful.

Anyway, Subash saw her and said "wot a looker", which I completely couldn't share the same sentiments as I prefer my own race (that's not a racist comment! I just like chinese girls more). I mean, I can't tell which is a chio Indian and such. Ya. Better not continue on this issue further. As I was saying, he started to chat.


Subash/Jx: hi
Anuja: hello?
Subash/Jx: hi darling. chat with me.
(Jx in the background, "Ah fuck.. I'm dead.")
Anuja: go away?
Subash/Jx: nah. hi again
Anuja: bye
Subash/Jx: hi


K I don't want to write what he wrote further on. It's kinda disturbing. But he was trying to pick her up initially, and for some really unnerving moments she thought it was me. Yucks.


How much longer do I have to keep on trying


Sometimes I wonder what I really want. Am I in love with her. If so, why can't I force myself to do those things guys in love do? Fetch her home consistently. Talk to her on the phone every once in a while. Talk without purpose.

If I can abandon a conversation with her, and chiong dota, there's something wrong with me.

I blowing a huge balloon, words out of my heart. But it's just air I guess, nothing concrete. There's got to be more to it than just mere encouragement on a weekly basis.

It's become like a chore. Love is supposed to be more than that. I'm feeling pressured; I run away everytime there is something. I'm demanding reciprocation for.. nothing? Is it peer pressure. If so, I'm doing nothing.

If there's one thing I learnt out of the last two years, it's that some things come better naturally. Somehow forced issues are bogged down with the reluctance factors. That's where the Jedi got their idea of "let the force flow through you." It makes some sense, actually.


The two of us can bring an end to this


But because of me.. there's no one else.

At this moment I should be sleeping in the guard room, dreading my next turn which should come in 33 mins time. In a smart-4, hugging my SBO.. probably talking to her on the phone earlier, and now having sweet dreams. But enough about dreaming. It's a super stroke of luck to have my duty taken by someone serving extra. Though there is a tinge of guilt which by all accounts should not be present, I have to admit I'll rather be home than doing prowling in camp. Darn, honestly I won't have minded talking to Cal all the way. Or Subash. Or Joseph.

It's been one of those weeks when everything just appears on the plate and then gets whisked away before any flavour is savoured. Or even tasted.

I just missed it by just a whisker, but ya still missed it again. It's only a whisker, but still.. if this goes on I'll be forever ruing the opportunities and missing the people who pass by just this once, and then disappear forever.


I'm going to miss Sgt Zi Jian. It's going to be kind of weird working without him. Sort of got used to him solving everything, all the various technical faults that crop up randomly. The steady presence that reassures, that everything will be fine no matter what. It's not really something everyone can understand or visualize, but it was a comfort to know he was there. ZJ was the first spec to show me around, help me settle down, showed me the ropes. He and Ah Heng, the first 2 who took me into Archer. My two big brothers who protected me, laughed with me. And now both of them are gone.

"Focus," he used to say. "Anything can be solved if you put your heart into it."

I have always maintained it was a cliche. And I still do. It's just different when someone says it, and then shows the way.


Each and everyone of us are walking in separate directions, towards our own destinations, each with our own purposes. It need not be a straight line; it curls, twists and bends. Sometimes lines meet, and we make an aquaintance. When the time comes, each party goes off in different ways, often remembering the other for some time; sometimes forgetting a meeting ever took place. Some lines cross more than others; a few pass by each other just once. The intersection might not last long, but neither does a touch, and the feeling lingers nonetheless. It never completely disappears, even after everything is gone and done with, and the dust has settled. But just can't help feeling the slight tinge of regret. That the same moment will never return.


I can't remember much of last night. The dinner was a bore. We just ate and ate and ate.. meat. Chuwei and Joseph just hogged the menu, not that we had any complains. After all, a company dinner = a great wayang show, so it was just sitting back and amusing ourselves with derogatory comments.

It's not as if I purposely ignored the significance of my first WKSP dinner, but I was just too damn tired. Trying to get a whole company of tanks on-road is not fun. Although having Subash around is a great asset, I can't help but feel only regulars are up to these tedious tasks. So many sign on, and where are they? Slacking, smoking, sleeping.. Only Ah Heng's constantly on the move.

After that, Subash brought me and Zihao to Cheeky Monkeys. That place makes Zouk and Chinablack look tame.

I just finished 21 km.


*WOW!*


Nah actually it wasn't fun at all. I'm not even tired now. My legs aren't aching, I didn't pant during the whole journey, and I'm damn sure I could have got a winner's medal if CSM's lackey didn't screw up. Can you believe that fag forgot to indent a bus for us? That left 50 odd men stranded at the bus stop, and wasted nearly 200 dollars on cab fare. Plus, we were 20 mins late for the run. If he doesn't get 7 extras, someone up there should strike him down.

K, that was drastic, but serious.. my 2 ORD-ing sergeants just got charged for misplacing a magazine. Surely forgetting the welfare of the whole company deserves more severe spanking.

I regret to confess that I did put up a show of accompanying my fellow bunk mates, especially when Subash got a cramp. I would have just ran off, honestly, if SAF didn't forget to register us. I'm that sort of person who values personal achievement very seriously.. it's just one of those flaws which I should strive to remove, but is offset yet again by another flaw, that of "I can't be bothered. Seriously". Maybe I would have stayed behind. Most probably I wouldn't have. It's just the matter of timing. I loathe being the middle few, when I know I can be one of the first. I detest the thought of coming in behind some people which I dislike. With that knowledge in mind, yet walking the rest of the way, it's just not a good feeling. La.


*Orh-hor.. Jx abandon friend..*


__

Yea, I admit la. Sometimes I don't see the point of acting. If I want it, why not? I live for myself. I'm not supposed to care about what you think. Being nice to someone for no reason gives me the chills.

This is efficient stuff. I managed to write all that in 20 mins. Certainly an improvement from my usual 2 hrs of torture.


I haven't truly grasped the meaning of "ROCKS!". Or "ROX!". I know it means good, or very good la. But this expression is truly over-used. And it sounds absurd.


Xiaxue's losing it. Like all celebrities ill-prepared for the spotlight due to lack of substance and all-other-reasons-applicable, she's starting to moan about attention. Rather, moan for attention. Seriously, someone please slap her.

I mean, you (Xx) can't really write that well anyway. The main attraction about your posts was the uncanny knack of choosing the most juicy topics, derived from incidental occurances, and conveying the thoughts in the most coarse and blunt way imaginable. Notice: being the best blogger doesn't mean your crap is regarding better; it just means people are amused by it. Singaporeans' idea of entertainment is not very complimentary. By writing posts which beseech "fans" to stand up and show you support is really ridiculous la. It's so absurd it's almost funny.

Why the hell would your private life interest anyone? Unless you meet rude people and bitch. Then it tickles the bone. Just a little though.


Day off tomorrow. Wonder what I'll do with it.

Right now it's abit late, and I'm rather drained. Hardly the most advisable way to prepare for AHM; I really should be hitting the hay now. Get enough rest, stop doing and thinking about things that really shouldn't matter at all. It's just that weekends have just become scarce and therefore highly-valued.. and thus, sleeping seems a distinct waste of time. It's degraded down to the point, whereby even struggling to complete a blog entry compares much more favourably to a nap. That's how bad it is.

It wasn't a bad week. Had a day off on Tues, went to Far East and bought a shirt, at the same time earning a painful reminder that money remains a sensitive issue.. Wed and Thurs was wasted on Chemical Defence. At least now I have an idea of what Taf and Jh go through. Postively nerve-wrecking, and to a certain extent ridiculous.. but it was good; it wasted 1.5 days. Wearing the gas mask, stepping into the chamber, and inhaling foul gas.. it could go either way.

Big news of the week: SGT Heng's back, and Subash's in Archer.

Saying that I missed Ah Heng sounds gay, but I really did. And I'm sure Zijian's abscence will be sorely felt. Pity he's one foot in BV. Subash's crossing over has all the makings of a good transaction. Being appointed in-charge of M113s more or less affirms that notion; I simply LOATHE SM1s.


Speaking of all the happenings in Archer, I'm just wondering if it's another coincidence. Why me? the perennial question. It could have been Calvin; in fact it was Cal. Can't deny it's exciting to join the company, with it's cursed past and rebellious predecessors, as well as unfinished vehicles. But I would like some stability for once.


Once again, I have not done justice to this post, yet I'm not continuing. Getting free-outgoing seems more important now. But who am I kidding anyway; one-way street allows no reverse.

It's just one of those times. When the situation takes a sudden turn for the better. And you just don't know how to react. It's been nearly 2 hours since I got home, and part of me instinctively demands a return trip back to camp. It used to be an alien feeling, that is all so getting natural as the days pass by. Having fought for an off for a few weeks, I find myself being forced to take one.


Just a few hours earlier, I was looking forward to a torrid 3 days outfield. And now, I get chocolate instead of field rations. Staring into a computer screen listening to some crap Hokkien rock.. the crickets chirp, 10 stories below.

Though it was torture going through the day, the night action was terrific.

After rescuing a M113, the recovery was running along in the dark when we were suddenly surrounded by the combat M113s, all with live rounds ready. And the comms conversation was hilarious:


Officer 1: Hey wtf! How come movement stop?
Officer 2: Dunno leh. Like no space.
Officer 1: How come no space? Formation?
Officer 2: No space leh, sir. Cannot move.
Staff(intercomms): Can't see fuck. Joseph, on headlight.

*headlights on"

Officers: WHO THE FUCK ON HEADLIGHT??
Staff(intercomms): Off it! Faster!

*headlights off*

Officer 3: All vehicles report!
Sergeant: Er, sir arh.
Officer 1: Ya what?
Sergeant: Not in position. Something wrong.
Staff(intercomms): Knn. Can't see. Joseph on headlight.

*headlights on*

Officer 1: WHO THE FUCK ON AGAIN! CB!! *sequence of vulgarities too explicit to say*
Officer 2: OFF THE FUCKING HEADLIGHT!
Staff(intercomms): Off! Siao liao... *headlights off in a jiffy*
Sergeant: Er. Sir arh. I think got something in front of us..

*someone gingerly shines a torch*

Recovery: Uh oh..


Before that, we kinda linked our comms to the ones in the exercise. So when Staff directed Joseph, it screwed the communications part. They went left and right according to him and the OC.

You should have seen the mess. Instead of the M113 formation so proudly boasted by SAF, we got one mass orgy, and alot of vulgarities thrown in. Should've got in on tape.


Having taken a jibe at Staff's rather bad night out, you've got to feel sorry for him. Sure, I'm terrified of him, and I simply loathe the harsh and caustic remarks that spew out of his mouth. And if you try and ignore his super-short fuse, and rather hypocritcal nature, it's not that bad really. But basically Staff's a decent fellow who does protect his men. Plus, there's this extra pressure for Archer to do well, since the company flunked the last LRI. And if that's not enough, the whole platoon is going through a transition period. Sgt Zi Jian had his 2nd last day today, and Ah Heng's going to BV, leaving me as the most senior NSF. Which I can really assure you, is not a good thing, remotely, whichever way you look at it. The new guys coming in, while I haven't got a foothold on my own position yet.

Lastly, and most importantly, he's fighting for the renewal of his contract.

I will work harder. And try and be more considerate towards the plight of others. It's an outright lie, but sure feels good attempting to say it.

~

I got off the cab just now at the marketplace. And lingered around for a long time.

People passed me, some glancing sideways; others rushing about their own business. Not me. The sight of long hair. A pink bag. The expansive sea of faces, each less familiar than the last.

One moment I thought I saw what I was looking for. And when she turned around, why was I not surprised to see, yet another stranger. Long, shiny threads down her back, the slim figure, without the same face I yearn to see. She looks abashed, as I continuing unashamedly staring at her, with an open air of defiance.

You're not her, so it's your fault you look like her!

Buses come one by one; people come and go. A lonely figure in white, slinging a bag over his shoulder, looks on.

Only when the sky grew dark, that my hopes began to dwindle. Fading, like the setting sun. My shoulder starts to ache, as my bag grows heavier.

Only then, berating myself for the time wasted, I turn and walk away.

A mere few hours before 40 SAR looms once again before me. Not a really endearing sight on a saturday night.. I would rather spend the whole evening just lazing around. Then, they had to take away my sunday too. The ENTIRE weekend gone just like that, with possible day-offs which I can't claim, since the tempo is high-key now. If this isn't injustice, I wonder what is. Minor ones, that is.

Still, it's National Service. If I continue complaining further, I might get charged. Or, possibly worse, be looked down by all the female peers, suffering under the academic strain of school life.


Restlessness. The black wave of unease threatening to engulf me. It stares at me from every corner, laughs at me at every twist and bend. Every night I dream. Every second the image flashes before my eyes.

I don't have the time, nor the energy. But I can't control my feelings. And there's no one I can blame. The fabric which I once sought, to shield the longing in my heart, has been torn into shreds, day by day. There's nothing left, nothing I can use to disguise my thoughts, anger and disappointment slowly translating into actions I have little hold over. All the reasons, excuses which I used repeatedly to justify my course of action.. those sharp, cold shrads of ice, have melted in my trembling fingers.

My hand hurts. The scars left behind are starting to bleed again.

Everyday, I marvel. At how little I know myself.


At how much she really means to me.

There's a class gathering today. For once I have a valid reason for not turning up, and damn, I wish I didn't. Lying or giving lame excuses leaves a bitter taste in the mouth, but at least the present issue is avoided temporarily. Simply loathe the escapism theory, but you can't deny I'm good at it. Like, some stuff that needs to be tidied and settled, but I'll just toss it on my bed and close the door. And hope my mom walks in, shakes her head in disbelief, and then proceeds, in resignation, to clear the mess.

Unfortunately, my mom can't clear up life issues. At least not the way she used to be able to.

Could have gone swimming, then soccer with some old TCHS pals, then to class gathering. But I'm booking in later. Booking in on a Saturday night. I'm so sian it hurts.

It's been a riot week. The thought of taking leave for Teacher's Day did cross my mind.. but it turned out that next week Archer's going outfield. Hence all the A-mechs are down. We even worked OT yesterday.. while the drivers took leave. I'm not prejudiced against drivers. I don't want to raise another debate, hear those valid reasons and sympathize with their pains. But it just sort of settles the workshop/company line issue.

My IC called me a cokster. I said "whatever".


I remember watching this Southpark episode "Cartman's hate crime", where some racial issues were raised. About hate-crime laws implemented to protect coloured people, which indirectly segregates the masses even more.

Compassion can be a savage hypocrisy.

It's just my opinion. But I think that sympathy votes serve no purpose. I mean, if you voted for a visually-handicapped because you admired his courage, I seriously doubt that. I mean, what courage are you guys talking about? He's got nothing to lose. He can't see you guys laughing at him. What's so brave about that? It's more probable that you voted for him because you felt it was your duty to. Because you tried to replace the advantage lost to him. To appease your conscience. Fairy tales are the stuff of imaginations. I guess everyone's longing for more of these magical miracles.

This is probably going to be uber-offensive. But it's just an opinion:

The reason why man has progressed so far, from scraggy cavemen to the universally-assumed more sophisticated gentlemen we are now, is because we exercise elimination. We remove the weak, and favour the strong.

By giving the handicapped second chances, opportunities for them.. we're just lowering our standards. I honestly think that others sang better, are better-looking, and possess more star power. In essence, a star's image. Isn't that what we're looking for? A star. Not really organising a charity event anyway; there's NKF to act out that particular show. Andrea Bocelli? I'm ashamed to compare, even in jest. And I especially couldn't stand the part, when our superstar was asked to given the chance to thank his fans. I can't believe he actually rushed the thanking part, and instead repeated pleaded for "more calls and smses." So much for the "competition doesn't matter" and "experience is more important".

Especially his facial expression. The look of desperation was such a turn-off. You've got to admire the old aunties. Xiaxue sure is one heck of a thick skin woman.

Honestly, the losing finalists of both genres deserved to be in the final itself. Why don't we want a perfect star? He can be handicapped. But his conduct and image must be present. I felt it was a farce.


The above was incoherent. But yea, that's how I feel. Waiting to be sued and verbally abused. By legions of compassionate guys. 2 words. "Go away".