hello everybody...

'tis but a momentary respite before i enter madness again come Sunday...

ah... my first impressions of the island...

honestly... it is a place of immense natural beauty... if one can only... with herculean effort... look past the fact that the entire island is one big military installation...

nature can be seen in her utmost beauty...

there are still birds that fly to roost in spectacular flocks there... there are stars that aren't obscured by too much light...

and the view of the ocean...

it is at once bittersweet... assuring... as well as wistful...

my first few days there were rather forgettable... not so much due to the nature of the activities... but rather due to the sheer overload and assault upon my senses...

i don't mean any of this in a negative sense... to a person well accustomed to military life... to one who approves of it even... this would all be expected... even welcome...

but to the virgin soldier... the entire exercise is rather overwhelming... the sudden and undignified shedding of identity...

and on an offbeat note... my hair too...

but anyways...it does take some time to get accustomed to being "standardized"...
rather a key word in the military i should say...

everything's the same... faces tanned to the same shade... eyes shifted the same direction... hands pointing the same way... voices echoing the same words...

how devoid of humanity...

moving on....

within the first day... everyone's issued two metal discs... one oval and one circular...
within the first week... everyone learns to tie these tags onto a string...
in times of war... they constitute the entirety of your identity...
if you die... one goes into your mouth...
the other goes to your family...

without doubt... i was familiar with the procedure... i think Hollywood has put in ample effort into publicizing this practice...
but to actually hold those two discs that might one day be the only remnants of an entire life wasted in war...

the utter indignancy and inadequacy of it all...

on handling a rifle...

the standard issue rifle is a marvel of technology and engineering... without any other source of energy other than that compacted in the round and your index finger... there's enough force to injure, maim, and of course kill...

there are at least a dozen steps involved in checking that the weapon is clear of rounds... all that just to avoid misfiring...

and undoubtedly... there will be even more steps and procedures to adhere to once live firing starts...

i've got a better suggestion to avoid all this...

don't use it...

the only arms we should bear upon our consciences are those that we were born with...
to serve, heal, and shield...

the most emotional... the most thoroughly felt breath of relief...
the feeling of absolution...
the literal unburdening of burdens...
all that i felt when i sent my arms back into the stores at the end of the day...

hello people...

i'm ok don't worry...

what i wrote in the last post... well...
was an exaggeration...
haha...

i do feel wistful that i have to leave some stuff behind... but i'm fine with it...
so there...

now for what i really meant to say... when i am away... and all you people miss my charming wit and celebrated wisdom... when you seek my words and find nothing there...

oh yes i know i'm such a celebrity...

my words of wisdom...
for my readers as well as myself...
for all times...

this too shall pass...

omg that was bad it sounds so corny...

but oh well i'm too lazy to get that away...

well i'll be off then... i still have some packing to do...

hello everybody...

i spent the good part of today packing up my room... clearing up stuff...
stuff all the way from primary school... old secondary school uniforms...

my grandma had said a few days back that any old stuff we had we could give to her... and she would donate it to some recycling people... and so i tied my stuff up into bundles...
unceremoniously at that... using raffia...

and then it hit me... about the easiest stuff to throw away...
toys you've outgrown... since they no longer mean much... they don't even bring back much memories... theey just sit forgotten... a tad bit sad...
those many excercise books and notepads that lie empty and unused... yes i know that school bookshops always urge people to buy more... heck... i can even memorise the entire spiel... but such empty and useless books are paler... both literally and metaphorically... far paler than those books etched... sometimes... in legacy of the sheer effort put in...

but some stuff you don't throw so easily...

it's a rather pathetic end to two years of toil to tie up all those essays... Fs to As no less... into bundles a la for rag-and-bone man collection...

so why... you ask... did i throw them away...?

well... what i want to keep is the effort that i put in... unfortunately that's not something you can shove into a drawer and take it out to admire from time to time...
that lives on... and could even die... in your mind and heart...
the stuff that i've written... stuff that at times have been proof of my superior command of the language...

in those papers and essays i seldom wrote what i truly believed in...

i believe in the intrinsic good of man... but it was the essay that argued otherwise that got me my A...
the soul of a nation cannot be truly reflected in the nature of its architecture... i believed in that... but...

this proves a point...
humanity's perceived strength in logic... one that may distinguish us from animals... seems to be deeply inadequate in the face of our other... and i believe... stronger... strength...

compassion...

but it seems that arguing this point always fails... after all arguing in what i believe in...
well...

i was practising on the flute again... the day before i think it was... and i was packing up my stuff...
flipping through the old scores... putting away the scores...

looking at a rather faithful score... or should i say i've been faithful to it...
it has after all been rather a permanent fixture in my file for two years now...

i held the file and felt like crying...

i wanted to write long... write much... dedicate words to this...

but it seems now i can't find my voice...

i have one thing to say about the show i caught today...

everybody...
Everybody...
EVERYBODY...
EVERYBODY...
EVERYBODY...

will go and watch The Incredibles...

'nuff said...

hello there...

i was thinking something was left undone here... something i simply forgot...
and then i realised...

wishlist!
ok here goes...

1) have fun in survive army (i realised the former's pretty idiotic yar...? kinda like an oxymoron...)

2) nice stuff to wear... that preferably goes with a buzzcut... ie. draw attention away from hair and make me look
like those Hollywood people who're going bald but lop everything off and call it fashion...
2a) more jeans...
2b) nice shirts... bossini... giodarno... U2... British India...
2c) shoes for all occasions...
2d) hat/cap/anything-to-cover-my head if 4) is unattainable...

3) i tell you what ah... money... then i go get all that myself...

4) a buzzcut that won't make my head look like a bad case of fungal infestation...

5) new flute... ok wait... better flute... Yamaha 500 - 600 series...? ooh... Miyazawa/Sankyo...?

6) driving lessons...

7) well since i'm at it... car...

8) oh what the heck... house...

9) great good results... (let's not get too smart for our own good here shall we...)

10) promising career prospects...

11) a job that i like...
11a) preferably nothing to do with numbers...
11b) preferably to do with music...
11c) teaching is acceptable...
11d) but not in primary school ie. no bratty 6 - 12 year olds...

12) that the army will actually endow me with a hot bod... woot...

13) that 12) will not be achieved at the cost of my mental capacities...

note to Santa: i've been a dear good boy this whole year... don't listen to the stuff people say...
they're fibbers and should not get their prezzies... at all...

note to everybody else: please... no matter what you do... coordinate...

having fifteen of the same thing... no matter how nice... is not exactly... uh... great...

so i expect a huge pile of prezzies at my doorstep when i come back...

haha yar right whatever...

oh look at what i got at quizilla...
drumroll please...


YOU ARE CHAMOMILE

What Herb Are You?
Brought to you by Quizilla

eew... and i'm not even that crazy about chamomile...

whatever...

thus ends the cheap thrill that lasted for about three seconds...

well it seems like i'll be home for Christmas after all...
apparently the can't keep me in there over a public holiday...
whee...

nothing much else then...

have fun everybody...

ok shoo now...

bye...

that's all for now...

yes i'm just randomly typing stuff to fill up space...

hello...

hmm...
should i blog today...?

i just received a notice from the army...

i'll be out on the third weekend...
which means... depending on whether you count the weekend i go in as the first or not...
i'll be home for Christmas... or not...

how romantic... the son's away in the barracks over the holidays... and papa will silently hang a stocking over the fireplace for one son missing over the holidays...
and mama will set at the table a place that won't be filled... and say a prayer under her breath before papa carves the turkey...
and the little sister will draw a picture of her brother with a rifle and mama will put it up on the fridge...

yar whatever...
wrong life...

i should not stay home for too long should i...?
i start listening to my songs... and then i sing along...
and it's all fine and peachy till i come to the likes of Mariah Carey... Fantasia Barrino... Luther Vandross...
Rick Price...

ouch my throat...

it's disgusting... i caught myself... twice now...
talking to myself... out loud at that... telling myself to stop singing before i really lost my voice...

damn...

so i sing loud enough... it's beautiful of course... the neighbours must be wondering where's that great voice from...
then they hear me talking to myself...

thank you...
i'm either the resident loony or noisemaker...
oh did i say noise...?
haha...
i meant music... of course...

woot!

my IE's back up...
somehow all that spyware and malware and pesky stuff just vanished overnight...

lovely innit...?

haha...

everybody go listen to Mariah Carey's Through The Rain...
ok fine i'm sorry if i'm a little late...

but it is really very good...

anyways...

this was what followed after my grad nite... cos some people were asking...

so we went to KBox at Cineleisure... and sang till three...
no actually we were sort of singing half songs... got bored and skipped to the next one...
and so on so forth...

yes fine... short attention spans...

so anyway we left at three... sat at Coffee Club till four... and decided to walk to Singapore River...
thank you...

so we did...

and we reached at about five-thirty... and i took a cab back... and got home near six...

there...

no i'm not a party animal...
kinda obvious yar...?

in fact all i'm looking forward to now is a week of non-action... stasis...
oh Plath would so despise me...

but never mind that now...

hello...

i went for grad nite last night...
i cleared my books and notes... my table the day before...
and i'll probably be clearing the rest of my room in the next few days...

somehow i thought the feeling would be kinda different...

two weeks of clearing seems like a grossly inadequate finale to two years of blood and sweat...

and if i may say... an equally weird start to the next two years... of more sweat...

it's not supposed to work like this... i say it's all the fault of the mass media...
the end of adolescence... and the start of adulthood... is...
well... seriously overrated...
too many movies telling us that there's some magic going on when we turn eighteen and finish school... and we all start looking for magic in the air once the academics come to a close...

a sputter-and-die-close not a big-whoom-bang-close at that...

and the magic... pfft...

let's not even talk sputter...

so yes as i was saying... it was ather an anticlimax...
the night out after grad nite was fun... really...

but the night itself...

i don't really think it delivered on what it stood for...

maybe that's cos it don't stand for anything no more...
kinda sad yar... but it's also kinda true that life in general is getting to become more and more parochial... boring... everyday...

maybe it's not that the magic's lost and gone...

maybe it's just a turning eighteen thing...

maybe over years and years of this bee drone society's breeding and conditioning... we all have an inbuilt genetic switch labelled "Conformist And Boring"...
and in small captions below it... "Flick When Eighteen"...

thus the obsession with normalcy and conformism...
taking out earstuds...
dyeing hair back from right pink to copper to brown... and back to black...

and before we know it we'll all be tattoos-are-for-gangsters... long-haired-guys-are-failure-hippie-wannabes...
bright-dyed-hair's-for-school-dropouts...

so for all those who have had the inclination to something dastardly... whether to make a statement or just to freak your parents into way early retirement... but felt that little twinge in the back of your mind... that white-collar voice beginning to take root...

tell it to shove it...

in the mean time i'm gonna see if a goatee would suit me fine in my post NS years...
heh...