Graviora Manent

2006-03-18T10:10:00.000+08:00

I've moved. Ask me for the website and ask me for the password to read password-protected entries too.

Tony Roma's

2006-03-05T12:08:00.000+08:00

Long-overdue photos! I only just found time to upload the hundreds of photos taken.

Tony Roma's

Beer?

No, we very class, need three cocktails to start off the evening. Not beer!

That's the awesome onion loaf on the left and some wedges on the right

My main course

Finishing off the food. Somebody teach me how to get rid of eyebags!

The aftermath of the slaughter

This is what I call a real burger

Uhh..no, I didn't take photos of that pretty waitress. You sickos. Okay, I did, but that's none of your business! Mm..stopping here for now. It'll be just crazy if I uploaded photos taken from Geylang, Boat Quay, Old Airport Road and everywhere.

2006-03-02T19:39:00.000+08:00

Yesterday, sitting in front of the computer working out the new month's schedule, drawing lines, rubbing out lines drawn, responding to emails that pinged onto the screen every five minutes. And 2.10pm, the first sms came in. And the others followed.

AAAA A1 DD
AAAA A2
AAAA A2 DD
AAAB A2 DM
AAAB B3 M
BCC B3
AAAA A1 DD
AABB A1
OOE C5
AAAA B3 MM

It makes me think of what could have been. Then I dismiss the thought. The 'A's are just a piece of paper. They are not a measure of self-worth, let alone a measure of a man. But somehow the words ring hollow. I've always been around people who over-achieved. The typical high-flyers who scored As whether or not they made concious efforts, the national team players, the debating stars. Maybe, just maybe, it rubbed off on me and I worked hard enough for a stint in the tennis national squad, enough for a few awards in English and Econs. Maybe, I forgot how to be average. Maybe I lost a little bit of my soul. It's easy to look around among my circle of friends and forget about those who don't do as well and are every bit as worthy of respect as that girl next door who brought home a perfect scoresheet. Sometimes I'm glad that I grew up well-balanced. That I grew up without a urge to club, to have pre-marital sex, with what I hope are correct values. I have stumbled so many times that I've grown immune to the fear of failure. I have tasted the bitterness of being broke, the humiliation of being bullied, the euphoria of being accepted and the loneliness of losing friends. If I had to make a movie of my life, it would be an abstract one with the lead being that ever present shadow of resilience.

2005 was a bad year but I learned so much about myself. From the early months as I struggled to come to terms with the regimentation of the army to the later months as I got into trouble and only escaped with the good blessings of the heavens. I've become so sure of my direction in life and everyday seems purposeful now. At night, I pore through my subsidised part-time NTU Business Finance course notes or my driving practicals revision book, by day, I puzzle out Excel files. And when I complete that accursed two years of my life, it'll be a short holiday before returning for some work experience at a bank. And then finally, university life begins at NUS.

If despair marked my entrance into national service, so will hope mark my exit. I will have left a team more organised and ready to tackle the challenges that we face everyday. I hope to stamp my mark and leave a more confident man, for ever is that plague of insecurity that hangs around me like a noose.

I turn my thoughts back to the A lvl results. I'm glad that all my students secured distinction in GP, econs and econs s. Maybe I'm not that bad after all.

2006-02-12T21:02:00.000+08:00

Tony Roma's was good. The ribs were montrous, the burger was what I would really call a burger, the onion loaf was wayyyy better than KFC's onion rings, the potato skins were greattt, the cocktails were umm..okay, I'm not that much of a connoiseur to comment about cocktails. Long Island Iced Tea had too much rum and gin for my taste, the blue hawaiian tasted much better, the Singapore Sling was a tad too slow-acting and the last one (and sadly, I can't remember its name) tasted just like cough syrup. So that's four cocktails and quite some damage to the wallet. The total bill came up to 192 bucks. Yikes! Pictures will be up when I get round to uploading them.

And my Mastercard came under attack again yesterday. But details are not for you to know larrrh=) Early Valentine's date. You know...

It seems unnatural but I get a wind of thrill everytime I head for driving lessons. I never knew there was so much to be learnt and to be honest, I've probably been quite a road hazard and it's suprising how I haven't been flagged down by the Traffic Police. Will have to cut down on driving until I get the license proper. So hello, public transport again. Hrmm. Suits me fine anyway. I couldn't ogle at girls while driving. My friend was commenting about how guys were avoiding bbdc because they didn't have "chiobu instructors". *sigh* How true. This valentine's day, I'll be making out with a salacious, leery old man in a car. God. Bless. Me.

Work-wise, it's been hectic. My unit's preparing to go Taiwan barely three months after we are done with Australia. And I heard that after Taiwan, it'll be the US! So everyone is fervently praying that they won't have to Taiwan and that they'll get to go the US. What racists man. All the betel nut girls not nice to look at meh? Angmoh girls are loose. Fine la..*mutters* Actually, I rather go the US too.

And the trademark nax hop and switch topics, here goes,

It's taken me some time to recollect year 2005.

Study-wise. Was pretty satisfied with A lvl results. Got into where I wanted to go and while I had the option of going overseas, it's just not worth it I guess. All that debt for four years abroad and who would chalk up the money?

Work-wise. I've settled down pretty well though there's the occasional spanner that leaves me scrambling around. I'll need to thank the few people I called when I needed to translate this shit of a paragraph into chinese. How the hell am I supposed to know what 'medical surgical platoon' is in chinese?!? Or operation theatre? It never really occured to me. When the time comes, we cut and we operate, we don't stand around explaining stuff to visiting Taiwanese generals.

Will get down to the rest next week. Back to camp (again).

2006-02-04T23:19:00.000+08:00

rule 1: state five weird or random things about yourself
1. I order the short cappucino at Starbucks not because it tastes better and is cheaper(!!!) but because it's not on the menu and it's a secret item where you have to specially ask for it. I just like feeling atas can?!?
2. My valentine's day date this year is some old man. We'll be getting it on in a Honda car..driving lessons. *sigh*
3. Yea..finally taking that first step to driving legally. No more palpitations when I see traffic police!
4. After checking my eight characters, the almanac says I'll always have enough to eat and I'll have a great family life. Ahhh..
5. I used to have a constant series of nightmares every night where I would be killed in various ways like being pierced though a bed of nails, or being decapitated, but always a new way every night.. The almanac says that it's a 'major good sign'. On hindsight, it's quite true actually.

rule two: the five people whom you want to do this
Huh..can't be bothered la

rule three: leave a comment 'you are tagged' on their blogs and ask them to read your blog for rules
I busy la..

2006-01-22T15:02:00.000+08:00

7 things that scare me

1. Seeing things other people can't see
2. Sharks
3. Being something's dinner
4. Or lunch
5. Or breakfast for that matter
6. My game files being deleted?
7. Clowns and dolls.

7 things I like most

1. Tennis
2. Reading
3. Sleeping (with a bolster)
4. Playing computer games
5. Stumbling upon a second-hand bookstore
6. Eating
7. ...

7 important things in my room

1. My tennis racket..damn expensive
2. My books spanning seven shelves
3. Everything else can burn for all I care
4.
5.
6.
7.

7 random facts about me

1. I jump 260cm for standing board jump
2. I drive illegally
3. I only like chocholate ice-creams
4. The more I eat, the more weight I lose
5. I dislike people calling me 'nax' if they don't know me well enough
6. I talk alot to people I'm close to
7. Everybody from my sec school knows me. I meet sajc ppl saying 'hi' to me on the street all the time when I don't know them. I. don't. know. why.

7 things I want to do before I die

1. Backpack around Europe
2. Get a few mistresses
3. After I find a rich wife
4. Eat every delicacy in the world
5. Make big $$
6. Play at the Wimbledon Center Court
7. Be serious

7 things I can do

1. Learn any sport and be good in it
2. Talk cock
3. Make a friend in five minutes anytime anywhere though I don't do this
4. Play a tune completely crossed-hand on the piano
5. Find trouble..I do this very well=(
6. Give english lessons?
7. Attract unwanted attention

7 things I can't do

1. Whistle
2. Ermm..touch my toes doing sit and reach?
3. Give in instantly
4. Maths
5. Chinese
6. Make smart decisions
7. Hide my displeasure well

7 things I say the most

1. Huh?
2. Hai..
3. Got money?
4. Stop slacking la
5. Let's go for break!
6. Hungry...
7. I busy la..

2006-01-21T14:51:00.000+08:00

Been stapling my bum to the chair and refusing to go out while randomly working on poems that I absolutely am proud of but don't have the guts to put up because there'll always be critics who'll rightfully point out that I could have followed the iambic heptameter better and that will just deflate my mood and my innate love for parallel constructions.

The house's been caught up in a robust spring-cleaning. We could do with alot of new things, new furniture, new curtains and new coats of paint. My home looks like as though it's stuck in the 80s with no theme and just filled with a random hodgepodge of cheap items picked out from a furniture catalog. Now we've got a new set of sofa and even a classic rocking chair as the centrepiece of the living room, an ligneous ambience is beginning to protrude and perhaps, I can start liking the new look after all.

Three weeks into the new year. On a whimsical note, I've deleted some of the more recent entries have been deleted. I guess..I need more privacy. My web tracking counter shows hundreds of visitors but I don't know anybody who really reads my blog on a constant basis. *grumbles*

I've got a craving for peking duck. Yet another incoherent entry...

2006-01-20T21:16:00.000+08:00

I sit beside the fire and think
Of all that I have seen.
Of meadow-flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been.

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
In autumns that there were
With morning mist and silver sun
And wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
Of how the world will be
When winter comes without a spring
That I shall ever see.

For still there are so many things
That I have never seen
In every wood in every spring
There is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
Of people long ago,
And people who will see a world
That I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
Of times there were before
I listen for returning feet
And voices at the door.

Missing in Action

2005-12-21T23:18:00.000+08:00

this is nax's friend here, helping him to inform his friends that he will not be around until the 30th of december.. tt poor boy is stuck in his NS camp.. lets wish him merry christmas n happy new yr via sms.. at least i think that will make his life in camp easier to bear.. =)

2005-12-06T21:48:00.000+08:00

I think one day you'll realise that I'm not the best man for you. I demand alot and at the end of the day, you'll never view me in the same light if we got together. I'm lazy, impatient, brash at times and insensitive. You know, the typical male chauvinist who wants to earn enough money so his wife never has to work. You wouldn't like that at all. Maybe you don't really know me. You wouldn't want to.

And that makes you, rejected girl number six this year. See how insensitive I am now? I hope this satisfies you. I'm sorry, but you deserve better.

Am pretty worn out from helping to admnister the medic tests. I've seen so many needles that I no longer feel the prick. My face feels really rough, as though it's on the verge of a pimple outbreak, except that I'm past the stage of pimples already. So tired, NS feels like a never-ending chalet. This time last year, I was a little apprehensive about entering NS. This time next year, I'll have served my dues. I guess it's time I headed back to camp.

2005-12-04T21:38:00.000+08:00

Getting a lil worried about finding time to do my christmas shopping. This weekend went by in a flash and I didn't have time to go town. Next weekend will be absorbed by training and then to go out with a friend. Next next weekend will be a chalet and then competition again. Week after that, christmas already. *groans*

Ironic that I'm so busy in the weeks leading up to christmas but I have no plans for christmas eve itself because everybody has church or is spending time with family. The worry bites me actually, but I guess the worst case scenario is watching reruns on tv on home. And that doesn't sound too bad...I hope. I'm used to it already..somewhat.

life is like a boat

2005-12-04T20:42:00.000+08:00

Life is Like A Boat - performed by Rie Fu
Kana/Kanji version

Nobody knows who I really am
I never felt this empty before
And if I ever need someone to come along
Who’s gonna comfort me and keep me strong

We are all rowing the boat of fate
The waves keep on comin’ and we can’t escape
But if we ever get lost on our way
The waves would guide you thru another day

遠くで息をしてる　透明になったみたい
暗闇に思えたけど　目隠しされてただけ

祈りをささげて　新しい日を待つ
鮮やかに　光る海　その果てまで

Nobody knows who I really am
Maybe they just don’t give a damn
But if I ever need someone to come along
I know you would follow me, and keep me strong

人の心はうつりゆく　抜け出したくなる
つきはまた新しい周期で　舟を連れてく

And every time I see your face,
The oceans heave up to my heart
You make me wanna strain at the oars,
And soon I can see the shore

Oh, I can see the shore
When will I…. can see the shore?

I want you to know who I really am
I never thought I’d feel this way towards you
And if you ever need someone to come along
I will follow you, and keep you strong

旅はまだ続いてく　穏やかな日も
つきはまた新しい周期で　舟を照らし出す

祈りをささげて　新しい日を待つ
鮮やかに　光る海　その果てまで

And every time I see your face,
The oceans heave up to my heart
You make me wanna strain at the oars,
And soon I can see the shore

運命の船を漕ぎ
波は次から次へと
私たちを襲うけど
それも素敵な旅ね
どれも素敵な旅ね

2005-12-01T15:29:00.000+08:00

Few more hours to the tournament. Making a few last min calls to shane, marc, cassandra, angela and sandra. Best of luck to us guys (and gals)! Hopefully, I can find a way to install my digicam and I'll get the photos displayed here for you guys.

Shameless ad ~~before the girls read this~~ : Guys, Cass is one of the most famous girls in the blogging circle, a Miss 2004 Singapore pageant finalist, 'Miss Crowning Glory' and 'Best in Swimwear' and probably the prettiest gamer in Singapore. I know, because the first time I played with her, she turned up in a tube and we lost our first game ever because I couldn't concentrate. And my ex was pissed with me for a week. Sandra...see sandra here! Angela's chioer than both of them. So what you waiting for? Come down to Prinsep to support us la.

Okay, gotta go.

2005-11-27T20:53:00.000+08:00

The computer is officially dead. I haven't been able to get it to even start. Guess I'll have to make a trip down to Sim Lim Square to piece together a new computer. *sigh*

I've been awfully busy this whole weekend. Managed to do a few things that I've been telling myself to do, like you know, eating Ajisen Ramen, buying a new bag and catching up with friends. The problem with going out with celebrity friends is that, you get stared, whispered and pointed at alot, and it's disconcerting. Wah lao, want to stare, stare at her la, why stare at me? Didn't plan on giving econs s tuition though..*glares at a particular someone* Haha..actually, it's okay, I just find it weird to help someone in econs s paper considering that I never took it. Rules vs discretion in monetary policy, gosh, I was never taught that. Lucky, I know what's it about though.

This might be my last entry in a while until I get the new computer going. Might not be going online too. I just don't like using the laptop. My fingers hurt, my eyes get strained and I perspire for no reason.

2005-11-26T09:11:00.000+08:00

Typing every word with trepidation. My comp has taken a fancy to hanging for no reason and each time, it takes me an hour to get it up and going again. I suspect that my cooler is not working well anymore and it's so just so much work to take the chassis apart and inspect every component. I need a new computer! There, christmas list updated.

My christmas list!
Belt - One funky one please! Just suddenly felt that I have too little belts, formal and informal.
Bookmark - I need one. I'm currently using a condom as a bookmark so I really need a proper bookmark. Though the condom does make for a good bookmark.
Computer - Mine's named compsoleucosaurus azalia familiaris. It's that ancient.
Digicam - To take some photos of my camp and my mates when I ORD next year as a way of closing the chapter of national service.
Economics Books - *shrugs* I need to read more.
Pencil box - Haven't had a pencil box for the last five to six years. I get by without a pencilbox but sometimes, I just wish I had a place to store my pens because they keep going missing.
Sling Bag - The one I'm using now is three years old and it's really dirty. It's have had tuna, mud, sweat, dirt, ink and even blood spilled onto it.
Wanderlust - Money and time enough to lie on an exotic Russian beach with a book in hand.

I guess one learns to look forward and move on. I didn't get to where I am today by dwelling in the past. When one door closes, another door opens. This time, I shall not fail or falter. How long before my copious tears will cease? I've had heartaches plenty, but enough already. Run swift, Father Time, cease the pain in my chest.

I'm off to Princep Street now. My day beckons. Good morning, sunshine!

2005-11-22T22:48:00.000+08:00

It's beyond words. The stress. I've lost my sleep and my appetite because of work. I've never experienced anything like this. Not even during the sports season. Let alone the As.

2005-11-19T15:57:00.000+08:00

I disgust myself with my thoughts of spending money. Was toying with the idea of buying a second hand merc when I get out of the army. Which on hindsight, was just stupid. It took me six years of investment to grow that money and splurging it all on a whim screams shameful. All that sinful thoughts of blowing my money on status symbols. Arghh..I should just defenestrate myself. Find something to do to get out of this unhealthy malaise.

Was on the bus from East Coast to Jurong East yesterday half-nodding off into slumber from physical exhaustion when the bus went past NUS. Was looking out the window at all the NUS students chattering gaily when I saw several friends at the bus-stop. Those girls. Probably having the time of their life because they don't have to serve national service. Not that I want girls to serve national service though. I can't imagine them assimilating into that military organisation where vulgarities pepper every half sentence. Every singaporean husband will break out in goosebumps if their future wife goes, "cheebye la dear, get your fucking lanjiao here quick." Now, you see why I don't want girls to serve ns?

Was asked by a senior if I wanted to stay in a hostel when I go NUS. Said she would reserve a place for me because Temasek hall gets the majority of the sports people. Sounds good actually. It's the nearest hall to FASS. Except that I've heard enough stories about Eusoff hall to want to go there instead. Apparantly, they are a wild bunch and if you see underwear hanging onto a doorknob, it means that a couple is having it going in that room. Or maybe, knowing me, I could just go Temasek and make it a bawdy place too. Everybody knows that girls who play sports have the best figures, and by virtue of stamina, are the best in bed. *grins maniacally* Pervert? Who, me? I'm a nice boyyyyyy...

My christmas list!
Bookmark - I need one. I'm currently using a condom as a bookmark so I really need a proper bookmark. Though the condom does make for a good bookmark.
Pencil box - Haven't had a pencil box for the last five to six years. I get by without a pencilbox but sometimes, I just wish I had a place to store my pens because they keep going missing.
Sling Bag - The one I'm using now is three years old and it's really dirty. It's have had tuna, mud, sweat, dirt, ink and even blood spilled onto it.
Digicam - I'll like to take some photos of my camp and my mates when I ORD next year as a way of closing the chapter of national service.
Belt - One funky one please! Just suddenly felt that I have too little belts, formal and informal.
Economics Books - *shrugs* I need to read more.
More when I think of new gifts..

2005-11-18T22:47:00.000+08:00

It's this time of the year when I start wondering whether any of my friends have the time to spend my birthday with me. And it's usually a futile exercise. Everyone's overseas or in church or with family or attached. So maybe this year, I'll just go out alone and try to enjoy myself. It's a pain having my birthday on christmas eve. I always feel shortchanged in more ways than one.

Okay..forget it. I'll go sleep and come back to blog when I'm less tired.

I like this song from Bleach alot. Was listening to it today while counting down the hours. Then I caught on to this paragraph that I felt, summed up everything I've been thinking about the last few days.

3rd Ending Song from Bleach
Houki Boshi
Yozora wo miage hitori
Houkiboshi wo mita no
Isshun de hajikete wa
Kieteshimatta kedo

Anata no koto omou to
Mune ga itakunaru no
Imasuga aitai yo
Dakedo sora wa tobenai kara

Moshi atashi ga houkiboshi ni nareta naraba
Sora kakenuke tondeiku
Donna ashita ga kite mo kono omoi wa tsuyoi
Dakara houkiboshi suru to kowarenai yo

Ame ga futte iya da to
Doke itteita toki ni
Anata ga itta koto
Ima demo oboegaru
Ame no ato no yozora wa
Kirei umi hoshi ga atteru
Sore wo kangaeru to
Ame mo suki ni nareru yo ne to

Moshi atashi ga houkiboshi ni nareta naraba
Afureru hikari furasu yo
Itsumo kanashii toki yozora miru anata ga
Egao ni naru you ni motto kagayakitai

Anata wa itsumo hitori
Nanika to tatakatteru
Soba ni iru koto shika
Atashi ni wa dekinai kedo

Moshi atashi ga houkiboshi ni nareta naraba
Sora kakenuke tondeiku kitto
Kanarazu todoku kono isshun no hikari de
Anata no ima terashi sora wo meguru wa
Atashi ga houkiboshi ni nareta naraba
Kitto soba ni iteageru, donna toki mo.

I looked up alone at the night sky and saw a comet
In an instant it began and vanished completel but
It reminds me of you, and my chest begins to hurt
I want to see you right now, but I can't fly through the sky

If maybe I'd been able to become a comet
I would run flying through the sky
No watter what kind of tomorrow comes, this thought will be strong
So this comet is completely indestructable

Rain's falling and it's miserable, and when it hazes over
Any time now, I'll be remembering what you said
That in the night sky after the rain, a star emerges beautifully
And so I figured I could start liking this rain too

If maybe, I'd gotten the chance to be a comet
I could flood the rain with light forever
When you're sad and looking at the night sky
Then I could sparkle more as you break into a smile

You're always fighting something by yourself
I can't be that thing by your side, but...

If maybe, just maybe, I had the chance to become a comet
I would shoot across the sky and fly away
Beyond a doubt, I'll reach you on this momentary light beam
And preserve that moment in the shining sky
If I'd gotten the chance to be a comet
Definitly, I'd be by your side for all time

2005-11-13T19:07:00.000+08:00

I have found the light in my heart, the balm for my anger; thy name is Forgiveness. So I slept lighter last night for I will keep not the hurts ministered to me, secure in the knowledge that as I forgive, so will my Maker forgive me on my deathbed. For forgiveness goes both ways. In forgiving, I forgive myself too, for I know that my behaviour was less than perfect. And I thank the people who were there for me when I was down. I know many people, but not many friends. I have few friends indeed but 'tis a blessing in disguise. My friendships are strong and I don't have to split my attentions between true friends and friends that come and go like wills o' the wisps.

The week's gone and my holiday is over. Stayed home alot to work through the mountain of books on my desk that I had been planning to do for months. I feel so recharged. I have rediscovered how rest feels like after working ten months without a single break under pressure that I never felt before even under the rigors of the As. And it's just one more month before I take an even longer leave break. Christmas is coming; I can feel its soul in the very air I breathe, like the spice melange on the world of Dune that makes my eyes blue in blue. It'll be time to analyse the year past, to count my friends, and to say thanks for the gift of friendship in the season of giving. And I am looking forward to it.

I had a dream during my afternoon nap just now. That I was still in school when my lessons ended everyday at 5pm and then training would be conducted until it was too dark to continue. Walking up the slope at 8pm in silence. Waiting for the bus at the bus-stop across the road. Going for dinner with the guys then stumbling home at 10pm. Settling down to studying at 11pm after a bathe and some stretching to ease sore muscles. And I would study till sleep claimed me. And the cycle would repeat again the next day. It was a good dream. JC was one of the best periods in my life. Almost everyday, I would reach home after 10pm exhausted beyond words. But life was good. All I had to do was make sure my grades could carry me to university, that I got into the school team for hockey, that my tennis did not degenerate. Nobody to answer to and my teachers didn't care if I did my tutorials or not. I didn't have time for girls. Had a girlfriend for six months in early JC1 then the relationship fell apart ~~when I got bored of her~~ because I was too busy. Stupidly got into another one that lasted longer ~~which got consigned to the texts of history because even good looks turn stale with time~~ but it wasn't to be. But life was meaningful. T'was painful waking up. Now I just wish that NS will quickly go by and I can dive into university life. Already, I find myself slow of mind deprived of freedom. Where I used to take ten minutes reading a book, now I take thirty. My senses have been dulled. Where I used to play tennis like a coiled spring, now I play with unerring grace. But the day of freedom will beckon. Though when that time comes, I might miss the hours spent debating policies and prima facie ideologies in the army forum, and the friends I've made. Does life play with ironies?

2005-11-09T20:41:00.000+08:00

P called to say that the christmas shoot pictures came out today. Pleasantly surprised that there was so little photoshop. In fact, almost none at all, unless you count tinting the colour of my hair as significant. All those hours spent banging weights at the gym helped in toning I guess. Didn't have a chance to show off my 8 packs (kidding), but I'm pretty pleased with the pictures. Ask me personally if you want to know which magazine. Giorgio Armani anyways=) I still have no interest in fashion though. And yes, I know I'm not the most handsome guy around, but *shrugs* they approached me and who would turn down easy money? At least I look fit so shut up already. Have -you- ever landed a modelling assignment?

Just done with reading 'The Economic Prospects of Singapore' written mainly by a team of Economic professors from SMU. With inexplicable luck, I got my hands on a copy of the book, fresh off the first print batch. A quick glance through the book and you'll see that the preface was written only in August this year and the book is copyrighted for 2006. So very recent which makes it so very valuable in uncertain times like these. Shed some light into Singapore's monetary transmission mechanism which I never really understood. For everyone's sake, I pray that our, no, the government's gamble into life sciences pays off (which it doesn't look like doing so despite the early positive signs). And even if it pays off, there will still be too many life sciences graduates from the polys and unis looking for too little jobs or in a worse case senario, disguised unemployment. Am really worried but there's nothing that a guy like me can do, maybe just be thankful that I had the foresight not to go into that area. And maybe, be ready to jump ship when the time calls for it. Was reading yesterday's Straits Times and the front page story was on MM's take on our economy. "We've never had it more promising!" What propaganda! 4.5 percent growth or even 5 percent for the next ten years is nowhere near what we need to maintain unemployment and he still says there is strong job creation. Historical figures point to 7.1 percent just to prevent our unemployment from rising, and as we mature, that number will likely drop but even Tokyo requires more than 5 percent growth to maintain its unemployment rate. Am utterly disgusted at the lengths our media will go to to create good news that turn out to be actually bad news. I -need- to read happier books. Haven't been feeling good the past few days, few things taste as sour as a friend who lies.

2005-11-08T21:28:00.000+08:00

Played some basketball today. It's been so long since I last played ball. Never was really good at it, but when you've spent 4 years playing regularly with the best basketball team in the West, and 2 years playing occasionally against the best junior college team in Singapore, 4 years mixing around with HKNC players, sure got improve right? No. Turns out that I still got out-classed by the national players la. Sian..why call me out when they know I'm lousy? It was de-moralising. At least I managed to dunk the ball twice=P And the second time was with my back to the net!

I miss basketball. Back in primary school, I used to play it almost everyday. My class was filled with school team players so their enthusiasm really caught on with me. It was with them when I practised dribbling the ball between my legs. We would imagine dunking the ball and would try for ages to do it. I attribute this period of time as the reason why I can dunk the ball when most taller guys fail, same reason why I can jump 260cm+ for Standing Broad Jump now. So it was that suddenly among the whistling and shuffling of feet on the lacquered ground that I thought of the first time -my- team won -their- team. Last day of school, last physical education period, we had been losing for 2 years every PE lesson. The last match before we graduated and went off to different secondary schools. I suddenly remembered it because the players formation then was exactly the same as that moment. I had just switched over from Guard position to Center position to dictate play and get more grip on the rebounds. My opponent was screening me and my only option was to bounce the ball between the screener's legs, get around him and pass blindly to the right. That I did, same direction, same power. And the same guy got the ball, did the same actions he did in that primary school match, bounced it between his legs, thus stopping the spin, took a step back and sank a 3-pointer. He actually remembered. They all thought that it was a sublime piece of skill from me and W. It wasn't. We were just re-producing a play we did seven years ago.

When I say stupid

2005-11-08T19:06:00.000+08:00

You know, when I say somebody is stupid, I just mean that he's not exactly intellectually gifted; I don't mean that he's a crass, imbecilic dipshit. If I wanted to scold somebody, I would say just that, for nobody in his right mind would settle for just 'stupid'. So I don't know how such a word could be contorted into an insult. To me, all ITE students are stupid, and most poly people are stupid. Don't come whining to me saying that there are 6-pointers who go polys too. I know, they are the exceptions and I expect them to go on to university but most poly people are in poly because they wouldn't have survived in junior college. But I don't look down on them, besides, if there are no stupid peope on Earth, there won't be any smart guys like me too. Not the most poltically correct thing to say but damn, it's my blog, and I'm not writing a political thesis. Am pretty sick of reading blogs claiming that poly life is hectic and that jc students like me (!!! this girl linked to my blog) don't know how good a life they lead. Hey, I was in the school team for hockey, played tennis for club and country, was at one point involved in four ccas, topped my school in gp, topped my class in econs. I know what's hectic. You don't. Maybe it was the constant stayovers at my friends' houses, or maybe it was the frequent trips out for fun, chilling at country clubs or lanning at Head Quaters that deceived her..but which weirdo will blog about studying and the tedious hours spent writing mathematical equations and economic essays. I don't stop appreciating for a moment that poly graduates are the ones driving our economy and that they probably can do alot of things better than us. But if I wanted someone in a leadership position, I'll get that guy who went to junior college and probably went to university as well. If you've survived junior college and done well, you'll would probably have aced most poly modules. There is a reason why the government limits entrance to university for poly graduates. They just do not deserve going to university, not when a significant number of junior college graduates also cannot enter our local unis. That's one of the reasons I went NUS. My degree will not be diluted by poly graduates. NUS is by far the most stringent when it comes to admiting poly grads. My degree will not be diluted by you, the girl who claims that her poly life is busy and stressful, yet has time enough to go clubbing.

Send your hate mails to naxster(at)gmail.com. Thanks.

2005-11-03T21:20:00.000+08:00

Grinning like a child who's picked up a dollar on the road because that's enough money for two lollipops! One more workday and it'll be 9 days of hopefully undocumented joy! It'll be the first long break I've have had since enlistment, the first week where I wouldn't have to worry about work going wrong. Just thinking about it liberates my soul from the smell of burning rubber, tarmac and medicine that I've grown so accustomed to. Almost the way I felt that I tasted beer for the first time many moons ago when I was down in the dumps. It came as a shock to me last month that I hadn't utilised any of my leave; that I could afford to stay away from camp for one month if realities of duty don't persist to hound me. I've got mangas to read, animes to watch, games to play, movie vouchers to use, shopping to do, baking to learn, books to read, friends to go out with and four hundred bucks in my wallet (I finally got down to counting the cash in there). A brave new world awaits; my World of course, not Aldous Huxley's.

The gap between us has changed. It always is changing of course, but this time, I'm walking away, step by step. I'm sick of your selfishness. You'll read this, but you won't know it's you, because I've never voiced it out. You see, I rather you remain ignorant and happy in your bubble world.

2005-10-31T22:38:00.000+08:00

My blog is worth $1,129.08.
How much is your blog worth?

Weird. I thought it would be valued at zero bucks or something considering the effort I make into keeping this blog private.

2005-10-30T07:09:00.000+08:00

Okay..I didn't really appreciate my cause of death the way loi appreciated hers. And how nice. Born one day before christmas, die one day after christmas. God has plans for me.. *smirks* And I'm back from Shoalwater Bay.

What will your Funeral be like? by rashock
Username
You will die by:	You always were kinky in your sex life and took it just a bit to far. You died over doing breath control, blood play, or some other strange kink.
Death Date:	December 26, 2015
Number attending your funeral?	123
How much will you leave to friends and family?	$125,915

Quiz created with MemeGen!

Wanderers in the shadowed land

2005-10-09T21:32:00.000+08:00

Four times the young lady stooped to get a stick of sugar cane. Four times the men ogled. Ask me again, how does that shop enjoy good business despite selling sugar cane that doesn't taste good. Cleavage. Plenty of it. I wish I had something girls would want to ogle at too. Life would be that much more easier...

Wishful thinking aside, morning was spent staking out a tent in the toilet. Was bored waiting for food to be cooked on the grill yesterday so brilliant me gave up and started chucking cold hotdogs and crabsticks into (say/read it respectfully please) His Bottomless Stomach. Those food have been already been industrially cooked right? Apparantly, HBS disagrees. *mutters* Oh thy HBS, no more that thane of Hotdogs shall deceive our bosom interest. Thanks for inviting me to bbq ah...

And Clara, it's 50,000 words! Not 10,000. I have no idea how to begin on my novel. Sci fi? Fantasy? Thriller? Reflection? And i'm just (still) 18. No romance and under bedsheet scenes for me. I've been out of touch with writing for nine months and picking up a pen seems just like learning to walk all over again. It feels strange. Blow you away with my novel? More like airing one wisp of the hair on your fringe. I'll send the novel to you everytime I hit a multiple of 5000. Will appreciate your input alot, thanks so much in advance! 3 more weeks to November...

To the people knuckling down to the 'A' Levels, the light at the end is in sight! Just a year ago and it seems like yesterday, I was the one frantically finding notes to study and cursing the mostly empty notes I had (muchly due to skipping and sleeping in lectures). The 'A's will end and all woods must fail! And when they do, you can start preparing to celebrate............my birthday=)

O! Wanderers in the shadowed land
despair not! For though dark they stand,
all woods there be must end at last,
and see the open sun go past:
the setting sun, the rising sun,
the day's end, or the day begun.
For east or west all woods must fail...

$@!&^!#

2005-09-26T21:11:00.000+08:00

Took another day off today and was bored stiff at home. So what to do? Think of ways to make money lor. So morning was spent in front of the computer. The following is just for me to keep a softcopy.

Fixed Deposits Interest Rates for 1 year
ABN Amro 0.70%
Citibank 2.1% (50k min, but withdrawals up to 45k allowed) [obvious winner except that I don't have 50k]
DBS 0.625%
Hong Leong Finance 0.8125%
HSBC 0.7%
Maybank 0.875% (1k min)
OCBC 0.7% (1k min)
POSB 0.625% (1k min)
Singapura Finance 1.25% (0.5k min) [next best!]
Standard Chartered 0.8% (5k min)
UOB 0.7% (5k min)

Afternoon was spent opening a fixed deposit account.

[Insert picture of nax holding 10k note]

And that was how I spent my day off.

Shit, now everyone pray that Singapura Finance does not close down for the next one year. Half my savings in a bank I've never heard of!

2005-09-18T21:24:00.000+08:00

I've got 2 days off! For that horrendous last weekend spent counting down the hours by the Marina bay trekking around the Esplanade. Fullerton Hotel looks insipidly inspiring at 3am! It was insanely boring from 9am to 1am on Saturday with nobody to talk to but the rest of the hours slipped by when I was finally relieved from my post. I never knew that there would be people fishing at the Merlion jetty after witching hours. Was submerged into my thoughts when I suddenly remembered that I had to be at the Nicoll Highway by 5.45am. Sprinted back to the buggy and drove like a madman, if mad could be used to describe a guy maneurving a buggy chugging along at 20km per hour. Was finally home 6pm Sunday with little food and no sleep since Friday night.

Nax the next big thing has plucked up the courage to join nanowrimo! Talk about choosing the longest way to damnation. Will be writing and knocking down the planks to my coffin. The goal: To write a 50,000 word novel in the National Novel Writing Month of November. Someone please volunteer to be my editor. Must be able to take crap writing and ugly handwriting. Minimum distinction in General Paper, negotiable=)

Nax the next big glutton ate chili crab, shark fin and curry chicken today. Hehe.

2005-09-04T22:09:00.000+08:00

It's been a long and crazy week. Finally some time to myself to sit in front of the comp to catch up on the week's news, chat, make appointments for the next week and just fart. Fart mostly, which means I'm doing nothing much. That's what a Sunday should be like. *sigh* And I just checked my calender. Fully booked for the next two months. Okay, off to camp.

Out of doubt, out of dark, to the day's rising
he rode singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.
Hope he rekindled, and in hope ended;
over death, over dread, over doom lifted
out of loss, out of life, unto long glory.

2005-09-02T23:19:00.000+08:00

Had the result of Project Superstar a few mins before the announcement of the winner. It was a clear lead. But the reactions of the audience were disappointing. People accusing Kelvin of winning through sympathy votes. If so, why didn't those Kelly supporters go and vote more? Does a Superstar have to be a good singer? Is Aaron Kwok a good singer? Kelvin has the popular support, that is enough. Does it matter why he has that level of support?

Those who predicted that Kelvin would win the competition can go and be fortune teller. Join PAP also can, they always make predictions about future one.
Those who come up with conspiracy theories like Universal Music voting for and making Kelvin win so they could get Kelly should go and join the intelligence agency and police. The CAD needs you.
Those who know why Kelvin win, but also know why he should not win, but still should win and convince everyone else that Kelly is the true winner should go and be a lawyer. We need you to kick more TT Durai asses.
Those who can predict why other people vote for Kelvin, whether they vote out of sympathy or genuine support should go and be psychologist. It's the next big field!
Those who can do all of the above..hmmm...they can become reporter with Wan Bao already. More nonsense articles for us!

2005-08-26T21:42:00.000+08:00

So yes, I quitted tennis. The tennis convenor called me up but I had to reject him. It just didn't make sense anymore. For me to be out of camp the whole day for 3 days a week and leaving the guys in the lurch. It certainly wasn't fun coming back from tennis the next day only to find that someone else has made a mess of my work because nobody knows how to do the work I do. With CJ about to finish his NS, H about to disrupt for overseas studies, W yet to come back from his Basic Military Training, and then with training in Australia for a month, it leaves only 2 months for me to learn everything that's to be learnt. Only two months before I become department head and everything comes under my charge. And there's two new medics just posted in and I'm supposed to do the teaching. I'm just this close to a nervous breakdown but work keeps piling in. Who has time for tennis?

And yesterday night, I decided to take the train. No particular reason. Then at the MRT Station, something told me to stop and turn around. No logical reason. Then I saw you. It's been a long time. I was tired, all I wanted to do was go back to camp quickly and sleep. But I chose to walk you back home instead. Just to see how we've changed, to make sure you got home safely. I took a good long look at you too, just to help me remember how you look like. Because I don't think I'll be seeing you again anytime soon. And so like we walked to your estate in silence, I walked back to camp brooding, alone as always.

2005-08-20T20:03:00.000+08:00

Where to begin?

"You look handsome..just like an indian boy." Said a friend to me one sunny August day.

Now, that's so wrong and right that I don't know where to begin.
I'm not an indian.
I'm not a boy.
Not all indian boys are handsome.
But I AM handsome!

That's the trouble with spending too many hours under the sun whacking tennis balls. I get all sots of people mistaking me for a mixed-blood. And this stranger came to spoke to me in malay. *grumbles*

Was motoring around Choa Chu Kang trying to find Stagmont Camp the other day, and I was having trouble finding the place. Went past Pioneer Junior College, then West Spring Sec, then South View Primary, no army camp. Did a U-turn, went past Teck Whye Primary, Teck Whye Secondary, Choa Chu Kang Secondary, no army camp. Another turn. Oh there, hidden right at the back up a slope. All within ten minutes of slow driving. My point is, what's up with the water in that area that makes the people there breed like horny rabbits in season?!? I think I've got the answer to Singapore's population problem. Dump those married with no child couples there and let the water do its work. And soon, we'll need another school there. Remember, you heard it here first.

Stagmont camp's a pretty small camp. The entire camp there is like just the size of my unit's territory? And my unit is just one of the tenants in Kranji Camp. It's one of those old-school green camps with a cosy feel. Unlike my camp where there's a depot, many roads and dust and scorching sun. I was wishing that I could be posted there until I wandered into their cookhouse and saw the signs plastered all over the place.
'WASTING FOOD IS AN OFFENCE'
I think staying in my own camp will be a better idea. Waste food = offence? So law-suit trigger-happy. Tsk..can I charge the cooks for serving us incomprehensible muck instead?

Which just reminds me of something. I had this sociology enrichment exam back in school once. And the question was, 'What in your opinion is the most effective way to reduce the crime rate in Singapore considering its already low level? Expound your point in lesser than 500 words.' The best answer would have been published in the school magazine.
My four word answer.
Abolish all the laws.
The professor agreed that my answer was the best. But it was never published=(

I never thought that the most important part of being a medic isn't to give injections or bandage horrible cuts, bites and skin lesions. Nor is it understanding what to do and what to say when someone collapses on the street. Nor the makeup of the body, the names of illnesses and body parts. It is to be trained to look at mangled limbs and protuding bones like it is something I see everyday. It is to be emotionally detached enough to see the revolting scenes of torn body parts so that I can respond calmly in war.

2005-08-18T20:24:00.000+08:00

Am awed by the depth of a friend's heart. I'll never be able to do that. To take back a girl who left for another man and had sex with him. She doesn't deserve him. I hope she realises how much hurt that has come about through her actions. I'll be devastated if I were my friend. I'm still very much a traditional man. Yes, I wakeboard, I do wild stuff, but my values are solid. I don't sleep around. I would expect my wife to be conservative in her values too. Should I ever find out that she's lost her cherry to another man, it'll be the end right there. These days, the other sex disgusts me.

And I have a voucher! 2 Billy Bomber main courses for the price of 1. Expires end of this month. But let's see, saturday's booked with Xak and the guys at Katong. Sunday, out with J for a lazy day at Raffles Town Club. Next saturday, Dinner and Dance at Swissotel. Next Sunday...Billy Bombers just in time before 31st August!

And I have an hardworking assistant! Except that he's too timid.
Him: "Can I have permission to go toilet?"
Me: "Uhh, okay..go go"
2 hours later
Him: "Can I have permission to go toilet?"
Me: "This isn't Tekong anymore! Just go, no need to ask me for permission."
5 mins later
Me: "Go S1 photocopy this and fax this to HQ Armour for me please"
Him: "Okay..." (starts running)
Me: "TAKE YOUR TIME LA!"

And I have half day off tomorrow=) So that explains all the exclamation marks. Things are going well.

Am awed by the velocity of my mood swings.

2005-08-16T20:24:00.000+08:00

I feel nauseated. At the way I gave up without a fight. So I lost, when I could have won. So much for being one of the top players in Singapore. You still have to win matches and I didn't do that. It's not losing that's a problem, it's showing him my backside and allowing him to give a good kick. I was a wimp. Is it just because he's the third best in Singapore that I gave up? But the score was so close and there were times it seemed that I was winning. But he won the points that mattered while I couldn't quell my nerves.

Sometimes I wonder what kind of person I would have been had I joined a non-sport cca in rv. Just imagine me marching around blowing into an instrument as part of a band. Not very appealing. Performing Arts CCAs do not develop grit. To shove and fight when the time calls for it. Or me hacking away at the keyboard in the Computer Club. Not very interesting. There's a fine line between geek and nerd.

Only sports can make warriors out of boys, ladies out of girls. In sports, there is only one winner. Most people lose. It's a priceless lesson in itself. Back in RV, most got distinctions for their cca grade. I got mine too. But it was not easy. I was Vice-Captain of RV tennis, my team had to make the grade to the National Finals. Yet those alone were not enough for distinction. I had to find time for SYF performances and CIP to get an A1. Most people from sports could only obtain Bs. For performing arts, there are no limits on the number of Gold awards that can be handed out. There is no real pressure, pressure to the extent where limbs tremble and the mind blanks out. Everyone gets distinctions when they join the cca. The band, the troupe, succeeds and fails as one. Where is the pressure? These people know nothing. They know not grit, determination, the despair of overwhelming odds, self-belief, grace, and losing. They know not the dirty politics to get into the team, and then the first team. Nor do they know the pain of losing and the chore of pulling themselves together for the next match. Or the culmination of the whole year's training that ends in defeat as it does for all but one.

I've always felt that guys who joined performing arts were less of a man. The only equivalent of sports that I can think of for a guy in performing arts is asking him to perform solo in front of judges and the audience and with the full knowledge that the entire school's expectation rests on him and him alone. See how different that is from performing in the solace of a full band or troupe's might?

So it really irks me when guys go around boasting about coming from a top band. *snorts* It just says to me that you couldn't make it into any decent sports team.

2005-08-15T19:51:00.000+08:00

*scratches head* How did I manage to obtain such lousy luck? Two different tennis tournaments. One is safsa level, the other is open to all other army personnels. I expected the Armour Tennis Convenor to submit my name for the latter but noooo, he had to send me to the higher level competition where I'll probably just get knocked out at the first round. Then I took a look at the draw. First Round, YS, a former Victorian first teamer. If I get past the first round, and that's a very big if, Marc will be waiting for me. And he's ranked number 3 in Singapore. So much for wishing to be entered into the other tournament. *grumbles*

At least I have 7.30 to 12 workdays on Mons, Weds and Fris. *grins* Skipped training today so I was home way early. I've totally forgotten how the sun shines into my room in the late afternoons! The feeling of being home early on weekdays. Things seem to be going for me at the moment. I'm gonna be posted to Australia after all. Not while my status is still pending. The two guys posted to Taiwan a couple of months ago are coming back so there'll be more hands at the medical centre! There's another guy attached to my unit as my paperwork assistant so that three good things going for me! So that's three! And I finally got a good long sleep last night=)

2005-08-14T20:19:00.000+08:00

Drowned myself silly late last night. Why does it hurt so much that a part of me feels dead if I was so determined to end the whole thing? Maybe..maybe, I'm really an evil person as you said. Was I too impulsive? Now I'll never know. Everyone has his set of goals by which he lives by. Mine has always been ambitious. Represent Armour in tennis, get into nus, top sa in gp, top the class in econs, get into the school hockey team, get into the tennis national squad at least once, top rv in geog, social studies and english, get into sji.... I rarely failed, because I dislike failure. It is shameful, it demeans me as a person, for it says that I am not whole and perfect, not Nietszhe's idea of Zarathustra's Superman. When you said the words you did, it was like..my world and my image of perfect nax collapsed. With those few sentences, you hammered a hole in the careful wall I had built to shield myself from the hurts other people bring. It indicated that I was a complete failure. Like you said, your actions dictate the person you are. So how then, did you treat me considering that you favoured others over me? That I did not deserve your attention, could it be that I was not good enough? It must be! What an alien concept to me...No more, for I've been humbled several times ago now.

You know, I actually miss you.

Girls are not Brothers

2005-08-14T19:56:00.000+08:00

I like this entry taken from Rambo Tan's blog. Pretty much sums up the code of honour guys have. Something...something, girls may never understand. Here goes...

You know, recently I’ve been having a lot of discussions about friendship, and relationships, and stuff like that. I have a friend, he’s a good brother of mine, and by brother I don’t mean same mother same father brother; I mean, you know, the type who will go with you to aljunied avenue five to find the bastard who touched your girlfriends breast when they sing ktv together, the type who will play soccer with you in the void deck then get chased by police, the type who will drink beer until both puke until want to die and then make sure you get home safe (not that we’ve gone through those experiences, I just know he’s that type of guy), that kind of brother - anyway, I’ve been trying to get him to come out, so I can introduce him to my pretty friends and whatnot, but he’s been busy.

Naturally, I asked him, ‘Why are you so fucking busy? There are so many pretty girls waiting for you to come and talk to them, and also I haven’t drank tiger beer with you for so long; my mouth has become dry already.’

It turns out that this guy’s mother was sick, you see. She was in the hospital for a damn long time, and he had to take care of her. The minute you tell a guy like me that your mother is sick, that’s, like, the ultimate social trump. You can play people out, you can play us out when we go to malaysia to eat seafood, you can even miss our gang fight with those fuckers from boon lay; family trumps all. This got me thinking; there’s a code of honour us guys live by, and by guys I mean guys like me - guys who like to sit at the corner kopitiam with our friends and drink tiger, guys who wear singlets and shake legs, who swear a little too much and save a little too little, guys who like to keep our lives simple and our priorities clear. There’s a set of responsibilities we have, that can’t be broken.

First, we have a duty to our families; our mother, father, sister, brother. Guys who are not filial are not worth shit. If you can’t be loyal to your family, you can’t be loyal to anyone.

Next, we have a duty to our brothers - the guys who sit with you, the guys who become your arms and legs - those are your brothers. If you see them day after day, if you see them by your side in a fight, if you see them carrying you home from the pub, verily, I say unto you, that man is your brother. Don’t fucking play him out, or you are scum.

The question is, where do girls come in to the picture? Our code is a little too patriarchal, isn’t it? How is it that girls aren’t allowed to become brothers? I’ve wondered about this many times, and somehow, it just never seems to work. A girl can be cool; she can be very, very cool. A girl can be special - she can be so special that you tell your brothers that you can’t make it to the next karaoke session, and they’ll understand - but unless you end up marrying her, you can’t skip out on something big, not if you’re a good brother.

It seems to me that, lately, a lot of girls have been trying to be my brother. You know what the problem is? I’m just not conditioned to take girls as my brother. It’s fucking hard for guys to be my brother as it is, let alone girls. In our lives, we spend a lot of time sorting out people who are just friends from the true friends; how much more confusing this becomes when girls are in the equation! The problem lies in a couple areas:

1) Brothers always end up talking about girls. It’s just awkward when a girl enters the all boys club. Suddenly we have to talk as if we’re talking to girls, and can’t be coarse and rambunctious and raunchy. Lots of girls say that they can sit in on guy talk and it doesn’t matter, but trust me, it always always always does. Even if she’s a lesbian. No fucking difference. Girls always dampen guy talk. Always.

2) Brothers can never be attracted to each other. I mean, seriously, we’re bros, not homos. At the end of the day, no matter how many beers you’ve had, you won’t think of fucking a bro’s backside. With girls though, even ugly ones, sometimes all it takes is a particularly dry spell, and you’ll already be fantasy humping her over your ABC. There’s no way that things like this can work out; no matter how innocent a brother says he is, his little brother always tells the truth, and more often than not it will say ‘come on let’s fuck’.

3) Come on, man, we’re ‘brothers’, not ’siblings’. Sorry, it’s just not going to happen.

So, now that I’ve been developing a lot of platonic relationships with girls, I just don’t know where they fit in, man. For now, they’re all just filed under my ‘friends’ category. Maybe I need to think of a new way to relate to people, but it’s late now, and I think I want to go and sleep first.

2005-08-11T20:01:00.000+08:00

They understand me not: I am not the mouth for these ears.
Too long perhaps, have I lived in the mountains; too much have I hearkened unto the brooks and trees: now do I speak unto them as unto the goatherds.
Calm is my soul, and clear, like the mountains in the morning. But they think me cold, and a mocker with terrible jests.
And now do they look at me and laugh: and while they laugh, they hate me too. There is ice in their laughter.

Driving and Nightmares

2005-08-09T21:16:00.000+08:00

I think I suck as a vehicle commander.

Date: Friday 050805, 10.30am
Destination: Telok Blangah
Vehicle: Landrover

Vehicle Commander (me): *yawns* Hey! I see Jurong Bird Park. So long never go already.. What are we doing at Jurong Birdpark?!? OI!!!
Driver: I think we f**king went in the wrong direction on the expressway just now.
Vehicle Commander: C***B**! Then where we going now? We supposed to be going IKEA there!
Driver: I dunno. We just pass by NTU. Want to speed?
Me: No can go. Anything happen, who do the saikang?
Driver: You lar!
Me: Zzzz...I don't know man. I'm going back to sleep. Wake me up when we get there.

I think I suck as a driver too. Expressways and me are parallel lines; we never meet. They can dump me at Boon lay because I missed the exit to Toh Guan. And I've always had this apprehension of vehicles speeding along at speeds in excess of 60km/h. I mean, I've always taken public transport all my life. Buses don't speed, and even if they do, the other vehicle is more likely to get crushed. All it takes is a sudden jerk and the car will swerve. Nax thinks driving at above 60km/h should be banned. Nax^TM has serious issues man.

In other Nax^TM news, Was eating dinner at Lot1 with a couple of my tennis mates and one of their girlfriend after my tennis training when I saw E who spotted me at the same time as I spotted him. He gave me the thumbs up, pointed me out to his friend, and then came over to say, "Hey! I didn't believe at first that you were in SAFSA, now I believe." Apparantly, because he's just seen me with my tennis equipment together with the other tennis guys. Like come on, I didn't even tell him that I am in SAFSA, nor am I particularly close to him. Who spilled the beans? And what's so great about being in SAFSA anyways? It's just an organisation sportsmen join when they have to serve NS. We just get more 'off' days than most people. It doesn't really merit being a dream organisation that every guy wants to join when they enlist for NS.

In additional Nax^TM news, Nax^TM has to get ready to go back to camp now.

2005-08-07T10:06:00.000+08:00

Still rather inebriated from the toils of the yesterday. Left the house late in the morning to catch Charlie and the Chocholate Factory at Lido with J. Movie was good, ability to appreciate it was not. Was struggling to stay awake throughout the whole movie. Damn tennis and how it wrecks my body's condition. Then we walked around town, lingering at Borders before YH came and J left. Like an orchestra engaged to keep me entertained. Haha. Got dragged down to Zara because YH wanted to buy a what you call it? Corduroy? Then like the sophisticated intellectuals we were, headed to Konokuniya for books again. Actually, just to check out the mangas, find a nice metallic bookmark for me (which there wasn't) and stumbling over lousy pronunciation and Japanese textbooks. Walked around somemore before we joined Clara's gathering. Come to think of it, it's really refreshing for once to be able to decide on anywhere and anything because we are no longer students with budgets to tend to. PhoChine it was for alfresco dining.

I like sitting in that rattan chair, the breeze blowing with my hands cradling my tired head while peering into the Oysta Bar a level below and making the occasional trip down into the bar for the toilet. I like the one-way glass in the gent's toilet where you can unzip and show your glory to the world that tramps down the stairs into the bar safe in the knowledge that they don't know you are directing your piss at them. Makes me feel like a voyeur, like a peeping tom on the wrong side of the crack. And I want to do it all over again.

Stumbled out of our chairs and headed for Starbucks at around 10pm in the night. Did I say how it feels good not having to worry about getting home because structured student lifes are long gone? Stayed awhile before I said goodbye to them because tennis and town makes me tuckered out. Got home, spent ten minutes clearing my mail before hitting the sack.

Why did it have to come down to this. Just because you wouldn't put in the necessary effort to maintain a friendship. Doing nothing is not doing the right thing. And the sad thing is, you thought me stoid and unanimated right from the very start, and because you thought that way, there was just no easy way for me to correct that flawed perception of yours. How is it that most people feel comfortable with me, but with you, entertainment becomes a chore. The way you treat your friends is just not the right combination to forging life-long friendships but I cannot say that because I'm not in the position to say that to you because indeed, who am I to you? Nobody important. Perhaps you aren't the person I made you out to be.

2005-08-02T21:39:00.000+08:00

Got into a rare mad, no, not mad, more of strangled rage last night. I don't see how reasonable it can be for anybody to be treated like a second choice friend. To be approached when times are down, to be ignored when things get going again. To be there when needed, an irritant when not. It's a real drag for my spirits. To see a friend who is normally bubbly with other people become subdued in your company. To be rejected time and again because priorities lie eslewhere in other things and in other people. The latter patently stings. To feel unwanted mostly. Like a toy to be brushed aside after the child's had his fill fun.

Had a cold, sleepless fitful night. Wondering if nax the man is too nice, and too accomodating. Nax of old would never such problems, no, he was boorish. Tossing and turning in a vain attempt to balm the hurt the heart feels. When morning came, it was such a relief. There would be work to get buried into.

If I had a 'HRT', and I could add a 'EA' or a 'U', I will rather have the 'EA' and have a 'HEART' without 'U' then to get 'HURT'.

2005-07-07T20:32:00.000+08:00

My small close-knit brigade commands 4 Armour units. In the past, the cavalry were the shining white knights of the field. Today, Armour and tanks play that part. My small unit where everyone knows everyone directs half the entire Armour forces in Singapore. That is power. If you enter our Operations Room and see the scale of the firepower defending the country, you feel as if nothing can shake you anymore. At all times, there must be at least one person in the room. I have slept in the Operations Room for several nights shivering in the cold and not daring to step one foot out of the room for even a toilet trip. If you enter our depot for the first time and see the endless rows of tanks grimly staring into space, you re-discover the meaning of wonder. I have spent hundreds of hours on the burning tarmac just trying to imagine the scene when the Operation Room sounds the call and all the tanks rumble into action. If you wake up at night to the sight of twenty Primus Tanks outside your window all pointing at you, you forget how little sleep you had, you just salute as the Anthem plays.

Six months in the army has taught me that I can be so much and so little. This past week was hell. My medical unit was arrowed to provide medical cover for the International Olympic Committee session. I was there as the London team broke into yells of joy. But all I was thinking was whether those guys, Beckham and Coe (pun not intended), realised the damn effort it took to plan two medical evacuation routes to each of three different hospitals, to update the store, and all the logistics.

The day before saw my unit organising the inaugural Army Commander's Forum at the Singapore Indoor Stadium. The Terror Brigade had the honour of pulling 8000 of the army's top leaders together. Imagine the medical logistic nightmare my severely understaffed medical section faced. And that was on top of day-to-day running of the medical centre. The highest rank himself, the Chief of Army, came down to thank us. Very few people have that honour.

National Day Parade rehearsals go on. Like the year before, our field was selected as the ground for rehearsals. My medics have seen the show too many times to feel excited anymore. Come the day, we'll be stationed at one of the many medical bases around the city. For guys, perform IV, for girls, perfom mouth-to-mouth CPR, regardless of medical condition. Break? Who has time for one? Well..at least they posted me an assistant to do my menial tasks.

But I still get paid peanuts every month=(

2005-06-03T19:53:00.000+08:00

Just an advertisement. On the first week of November 2005, yours truly will be spending 8 or so days backpacking hopefully in London and Paris. The trip will not be cheap per se. I need funds. Around 3k if I want to live decently (which sadly means eating the english fish and chips everyday though I'll try to approach it positively). Plus I already have plans to go Genting for the National day weekend in August. At the current moment, I can afford the trip but it'll mean scrimping on gifts and shopping. You guys will want to receive more than just postcards of the Eiffel Tower and the Wax Museum.

Why learn tennis?
Tennis, basketball and soccer hog the sports news and the other sports getting a mention now and then. While the latter two are games for the masses, tennis still preserves a certain prestige. You want to learn it because essentially, tennis is a skill. Tennis and golf are the only two sports that go hand in hand with business deals. World leaders have to be able to play these two sports. Golf is boring, so why not tennis?

My credentials?
Was in the national squad.
One of the best volleyers in Singapore.
Uhh..cheap rates

40 bucks per hour on a one-on-one basis. Or you can share a slot with another friend, each paying 20bucks for a two-on-one basis. Up to a maximum of four. You won't be able to find better rates around. You either pay 50 or even 60 bucks per hour on a one-to-one basis or you pay 20 to 30bucks per hour for a group session that has around 8 people. Note: I cannot guarantee slots because priority goes to my old clients (who pay me 50 per hour).

That's it, with luck, I'll be able to go off to London with a couple thousand extra cash.

2005-05-29T22:10:00.000+08:00

Am going on a hiatus of blogging. How long? I don't know. I'm mentally drained. People judge too much. Understanding is a rare commodity nowadays. If you lot keep thinking I'm bragging when I'm genuinely not, face up to your mediocrity and work on it. Have you seen me surviving on three hours of sleep everyday while I train and study and not a single minute is wasted. No. Seen me watch only one movie a year because time is that precious. Seen me walking the streets at 3am in the night sorting out my jumbled thoughts? Then you say, I worked hard too. Well, everybody works hard, how hard is your hard? Am ranting now because nobody seems to understand. Is it my fault that I was gifted with a 4.5 sigma IQ of 173? Does it mean I look down on everyone else? Does it mean I show off? NO. I believe everyone is a genius in their own way. Besides there are smarter people. The president of Mensa Singapore has an IQ of 180. I can't compare to her. What you guys take as showing off, it is ordinary to me only because anyone of you could have achieved it too. Admit it. You could have done the same. Come talk to me face-to-face. Come and know me for who I really am. Appreciate me for the person I am while I do likewise. I'm nice. I don't bite. I may get the occasional ego swing and crave recognition like any other person would but deep down, I am a humble man with my share of flaws. I want to know you people better too. I wish you all the wish you have in your hearts.

2005-05-28T14:50:00.000+08:00

It's true that when you are dying, your life story starts to play out before you. It was interesting to find out who appeared in the slideshows and who didn't. The spells of dizziness have finally settled after 2 days. I now have a very nice swollen scar where the needle was poked and a lingering taste of mint from a fellow medic's kiss of life. It was a forced sprint for 2.4km for all of us. If you couldn't continue sprinting, you had to drop out and go for remedial training on the weekends. Stupid order, now that guy is in serious trouble. Only four people completed the sprint and all four collapsed. My timing? 7mins55seconds. What price, thy self?

2005-05-21T13:30:00.000+08:00

Really enjoyed this read, it's an old text on education. It's true, a great orator must be a good man. Nothing before and nothing behind but the sky and the ocean...
Not sure how many people can read latin, but hey, that's your problem.

I. Sit ergo nobis orator quem constituimus is qui a M. Catone finitur vir bonus dicendi peritus, verum, id quod et ille posuit prius et ipsa natura potius ac maius est, utique vir bonus: id non eo tantum quod, si vis illa dicendi malitiam instruxerit, nihil sit publicis privatisque rebus perniciosius eloquentia, nosque ipsi, qui pro virili parte conferre aliquid ad facultatem dicendi conati sumus, pessime mereamur de rebus humanis si latroni comparamus haec arma, non militi.
II. Quid de nobis loquor? Rerum ipsa natura, in eo quod praecipue indulsisse homini videtur quoque nos a ceteris animalibus separasse, non parens sed noverca fuerit si facultatem dicendi sociam scelerum, adversam innocentiae, hostem veritatis invenit. Mutos enim nasci et egere omni ratione satius fuisset quam providentiae munera in mutuam perniciem convertere.
III. Longius tendit hoc iudicium meum. Neque enim tantum id dico, eum qui sit orator virum bonum esse oportere, sed ne futurum quidem oratorem nisi virum bonum. Nam certe neque intellegentiam concesseris iis qui proposita honestorum ac turpium via peiorem sequi malent, neque prudentiam, cum in gravissimas frequenter legum, semper vero malae conscientiae poenas a semet ipsis inproviso rerum exitu induantur.
IV. Quod si neminem malum esse nisi stultum eundem non modo a sapientibus dicitur sed vulgo quoque semper est creditum, certe non fiet umquam stultus orator. Adde quod ne studio quidem operis pulcherrimi vacare mens nisi omnibus vitiis libera potest: primum quod in eodem pectore nullum est honestorum turpiumque consortium, et cogitare optima simul ac deterrima non magis est unius animi quam eiusdem hominis bonum esse ac malum:
V. tum illa quoque ex causa, quod mentem tantae rei intentam vacare omnibus aliis, etiam culpa carentibus, curis oportet. Ita demum enim libera ac tota, nulla distringente atque alio ducente causa, spectabit id solum ad quod accingitur.
VI. Quod si agrorum nimia cura et sollicitior rei familiaris diligentia et venandi voluptas et dati spectaculis dies multum studiis auferunt (huic enim rei perit tempus quodcumque alteri datur), quid putamus facturas cupiditatem avaritiam invidiam, quarum inpotentissimae cogitationes somnos etiam ipsos et illa per quietem visa perturbent?
VII. Nihil est enim tam occupatum, tam multiforme, tot ac tam variis adfectibus concisum atque laceratum quam mala mens. Nam et cum insidiatur, spe curis labore distringitur, et, etiam cum sceleris compos fuit, sollicitudine, paenitentia, poenarum omnium exspectatione torquetur. Quis inter haec litteris aut ulli bonae arti locus? Non hercule magis quam frugibus in terra sentibus ac rubis occupata.
VIII. Age, non ad perferendos studiorum labores necessaria frugalitas? Quid ergo ex libidine ac luxuria spei? Non praecipue acuit ad cupiditatem litterarum amor laudis? Num igitur malis esse laudem curae putamus? Iam hoc quis non videt, maximam partem orationis in tractatu aequi bonique consistere? Dicetne de his secundum debitam rerum dignitatem malus atque iniquus?
IX. Denique, ut maximam partem quaestionis eximam, demus, id quod nullo modo fieri potest, idem ingenii studii doctrinae pessimo atque optimo viro: uter melior dicetur orator? Nimirum qui homo quoque melior. Non igitur umquam malus idem homo et perfectus orator.
X. Non enim perfectum est quicquam quo melius est aliud. Sed, ne more Socraticorum nobismet ipsi responsum finxisse videamur, sit aliquis adeo contra veritatem opstinatus ut audeat dicere eodem ingenio studio doctrina praeditum nihilo deteriorem futurum oratorem malum virum quam bonum: convincamus huius quoque amentiam.
XI. Nam hoc certe nemo dubitabit, omnem orationem id agere ut iudici quae proposita fuerint vera et honesta videantur. Vtrum igitur hoc facilius bonus vir persuadebit an malus? Bonus quidem et dicet saepius vera atque honesta.
XII. Sed etiam si quando aliquo ductus officio (quod accidere, ut mox docebimus, potest) falso haec adfirmare conabitur, maiore cum fide necesse est audiatur. At malis hominibus ex contemptu opinionis et ignorantia recti nonnumquam excidit ipsa simulatio: inde inmodeste proponunt, sine pudore adfirmant.
XIII. Sequitur in iis quae certum est effici non posse deformis pertinacia et inritus labor: nam sicut in vita, ita in causis quoque spes improbas habent; frequenter autem accidit ut fis etiam vera dicentibus fides desit videaturque talis advocatus malae causae argumentum.
XIV. Nunc de iis dicendum est quae mihi quasi conspiratione quadam vulgi reclamari videntur: "orator ergo Demosthenes non fuit? atqui malum virum accepimus. Non Cicero? atqui huius quoque mores multi reprenderunt." Quid agam? Magna responsi invidia subeunda est: mitigandae sunt prius aures.
XV. Mihi enim nec Demosthenes tam gravi morum dignus videtur invidia ut omnia quae in eum ab inimicis congesta sunt credam, cum et pulcherrima eius in re publica consilia et finem vitae clarum legam, nec M. tullio defuisse video in ulla parte civis optimi voluntatem.
XVI. Testimonio est actus nobilissime consulatus, integerrime provincia administrata et repudiatus vigintiviratus, et civilibus bellis, quae in aetatem eius gravissima inciderunt, neque spe neque metu declinatus animus quo minus optimis se partibus, id est rei publicae, iungeret.
XVII. Parum fortis videtur quibusdam, quibus optime respondit ipse non se timidum in suscipiendis sed in providendis periculis: quod probavit morte quoque ipsa, quam praestantissimo suscepit animo.
XVIII. Quod si defuit his viris summa virtus, sic quaerentibus an oratores fuerint respondebo quo modo Stoici, si interrogentur an sapiens Zenon, an Cleanthes, an Chrysippus ipse, respondeant, magnos quidem illos ac venerabiles, non tamen id quod natura hominis summum habet consecutos.
XIX. Nam et Pythagoras non sapientem se, ut qui ante eum fuerunt, sed studiosum sapientiae vocari voluit. Ego tamen secundum communem loquendi consuetudinem saepe dixi dicamque perfectum oratorem esse Ciceronem, ut amicos et bonos viros et prudentissimos dicimus vulgo, quorum nihil nisi perfecte sapienti datur: sed cum proprie et ad legem ipsam veritatis loquendum erit, eum quaeram oratorem quem et ille quaerebat.
XX. Quamquam enim stetisse ipsum in fastigio eloquentiae fateor, ac vix quid adici potuerit invenio, fortasse inventurus quid adhuc abscisurum putem fuisse (nam et fere sic docti iudicaverunt plurimum in eo virtutum, nonnihil fuisse vitiorum, et se ipse multa ex illa iuvenili abundantia coercuisse testatur): tamen, quando nec sapientis sibi nomen minime sui contemptor adseruit et melius dicere certe data longiore vita et tempore ad componendum securiore potuisset, non maligne crediderim defuisse ei summam illam ad quam nemo propius accessit.
XXI. Et licebat, si aliter sentirem, fortius id liberiusque defendere. An vero M. Antonius neminem a se visum eloquentem, quod tanto minus erat, professus est, ipse etiam M. Tullius quaerit adhuc eum et tantum imaginatur ac fingit: ego non audeam dicere aliquid in hac quae superest aeternitate inveniri posse eo quod fuerit perfectius?
XXII. Transeo illos qui Ciceroni ac Demostheni ne in eloquentia quidem satis tribuunt: quamquam neque ipsi Ciceroni Demosthenes videatur satis esse perfectus, quem dormitare interim dicit, nec Cicero Bruto Calvoque, qui certe compositionem illius etiam apud ipsum reprendunt, nec Asinio utrique, qui vitia orationis eius etiam inimice pluribus locis insecuntur.
XXIII. Concedamus sane, quod minime natura patitur, repertum esse aliquem malum virum summe disertum, nihilo tamen minus oratorem eum negabo. Nam nec omnibus qui fuerint manu prompti viri fortis nomen concesserim, quia sine virtute intellegi non potest fortitudo.
XXIV. An ei qui ad defendendas causas advocatur non est opus fide quam neque cupiditas corrumpat nec gratia avertat nec metus frangat: sed proditorem transfugam praevaricatorem donabimus oratoris illo sacro nomine? Quod si mediocribus etiam patronis convenit haec quae vulgo dicitur bonitas, cur non orator ille, qui nondum fuit sed potest esse, tam sit moribus quam dicendi virtute perfectus?
XXV. Non enim forensem quandam instituimus operam nec mercennariam vocem neque, ut asperioribus verbis parcamus, non inutilem sane litium advocatum, quem denique causidicum vulgo vocant, sed virum cum ingenii natura praestantem, tum vero tot pulcherrimas artis penitus mente complexum, datum tandem rebus humanis, qualem nulla antea vetustas cognoverit, singularem perfectumque undique, optima sentientem optimeque dicentem.
XXVI. In hoc quota pars erit quod aut innocentis tuebitur aut improborum scelera compescet aut in pecuniariis quaestionibus veritati contra calumniam aderit? summus ille quidem in his quoque operibus fuerit, sed maioribus clarius elucebit, cum regenda senatus consilia et popularis error ad meliora ducendus.
XXVII. An non talem quendam videtur finxisse Vergilius, quem in seditione vulgi iam faces et saxa iaculantis moderatorem dedit:
"tum pietate gravem ac meritis si forte virum quem
conspexere, silent arrectisque auribus adstant"?
Habemus igitur ante omnia virum bonum: post hoc adiciet dicendi peritum: "ille regit dictis animos et pectora mulcet".
XXVIII. Quid? non in bellis quoque idem ille vir quem instituimus, si sit ad proelium miles cohortandus, ex mediis sapientiae praeceptis orationem trahet? Nam quo modo pugnam ineuntibus tot simul metus laboris, dolorum, postremo mortis ipsius exciderint nisi in eorum locum pietas et fortitudo et honesti praesens imago successerit?
XXIX. Quae certe melius persuadebit aliis qui prius persuaserit sibI. Prodit enim se, quamlibet custodiatur, simulatio, nec umquam tanta fuerit loquendi facultas ut non titubet [ad] haereat quotiens ab animo verba dissentiunt.
XXX. Vir autem malus aliud dicat necesse est quam sentit: bonos numquam honestus sermo deficiet, numquam rerum optimarum (nam idem etiam prudentes erunt) inventio: quae etiam si lenociniis destituta sit, satis tamen natura sua ornatur, nec quicquam non diserte quod honeste dicitur.
XXXI. Quare, iuventus, immo omnis aetas (neque enim rectae voluntati serum est tempus ullum) totis mentibus huc tendamus, in haec elaboremus: forsan et consummare contingat. Nam si natura non prohibet et esse virum bonum et esse dicendi peritum, cur non aliquis etiam unus utrumque consequi possit? cur autem non se quisque speret fore illum aliquem?
XXXII. Ad quod si vires ingenii non suffecerint, tamen ad quem usque modum processerimus meliores erimus ex utroque. Hoc certe procul eximatur animo, rem pulcherrimam eloquentiam cum vitiis mentis posse misceri. Facultas dicendi, si in malos incidit, et ipsa iudicanda est malum: peiores enim illos facit quibus contingit.
XXXIII. Videor mihi audire quosdam (neque enim deerunt umquam qui diserti esse quam boni malint) illa dicentis: "Quid ergo tantum est artis in eloquentia? cur tu de coloribus et difficilium causarum defensione, nonnihil etiam de confessione locutus es, nisi aliquando vis ac facultas dicendi expugnat ipsam veritatem? Bonus enim vir non agit nisi bonas causas, eas porro etiam sine doctrina satis per se tuetur veritas ipsa."
XXXIV. Quibus ego, cum de meo primum opere respondero, etiam pro boni viri officio, si quando eum ad defensionem nocentium ratio duxerit, satisfaciam. Pertractare enim quo modo aut pro falsis aut etiam pro iniustis aliquando dicatur non est inutile, vel propter hoc solum, vi ea facilius et deprendamus et refellamus, quem ad modum remedia melius adhibebit cui nota quae nocent fuerint.
XXXV. Neque enim Academici, cum in utramque disserunt partem, non secundum alteram vivunt, nec Carneades ille, qui Romae audiente Censorio Catone non minoribus viribus contra iustitiam dicitur disseruisse quam pridie pro iustitia dixerat, iniustus ipse vir fuit. Venim et virtus quid sit adversa ei malitia detegit, et aequitas fit ex iniqui contemplatione manifestior, et plurima contrariis probantur: debent ergo oratori sic esse adversariorum nota consilia ut hostium imperatori.
XXXVI. Verum et illud, quod prima propositione durum videtur, potest adferre ratio, ut vir bonus in defensione causae velit auferre aliquando iudici veritatem. Quod si quis a me proponi mirabitur (quamquam non est haec mea proprie sententia, sed eorum quos gravissimos sapientiae magistros aetas vetus credidit), sic iudicet, pleraque esse quae non tam factis quam causis eorum vel honesta fiant vel turpia.
XXXVII. Nam si hominem occidere saepe virtus, liberos necare non numquam pulcherrimum est, asperiora quaedam adhuc dictu si communis utilitas exegerit facere conceditur: ne hoc quidem nudum est intuendum, qualem causam vir bonus, sed etiam quare et qua mente defendat.
XXXVIII. Ac primum concedant mihi omnes oportet, quod Stoicorum quoque asperrimi confitentur, facturum aliquando bonum virum ut mendacium dicat, et quidem nonnumquam levioribus causis, ut in pueris aegrotantibus utilitatis eorum gratia multa fingimus, multa non facturi promittimus, nedum si ab homine occidendo grassator avertendus sit aut hostis pro salute patriae fallendus:
XXXIX. ut hoc, quod alias in servis quoque reprendendum est, sit alias in ipso sapiente laudandum. Id si constiterit, multa iam video posse evenire propter quae orator bene suscipiat tale causae genus quale remota ratione honesta non recepisset.
XL. Nec hoc dico (quia severiores sequi placet leges) pro patre, fratre, amico periclitantibus, tametsi non mediocris haesitatio est hinc iustitiae proposita imagine, inde pietatis. Nihil dubii relinquamus. Sit aliquis insidiatus tyranno atque ob id reus: utrumne salvum eum nolet is qui a nobis finitur orator? An, si tuendum susceperit, non tam falsis defendet quam qui apud iudices malam causam tuetur?
XLI. Quid si quaedam bene facta damnaturus est iudex nisi ea non esse facta convicerimus: non vel hoc modo servabit orator non innocentem modo sed etiam laudabilem civem? Quid si quaedam iusta natura, sed condicione temporum inutilia civitati sciemus: nonne utemur arte dicendi bona quidem, sed malis artibus simili?
XLII. Ad hoc nemo dubitabit quin, si nocentes mutari in bonam mentem aliquo modo possint, sicut posse conceditur, salvos esse eos magis e re publica sit quam puniri. Si liqueat igitur oratori futurum bonum virum cui vera obicientur, non id aget ut salvus sit?
XLIII. Da nunc ut crimine manifesto prematur dux bonus et sine quo vincere hostem civitas non possit: nonne ei communis utilitas oratorem advocabit? Certe Fabricius Cornelium Rufinum, et alioqui malum civem et sibi inimicum, tamen, quia utilem sciebat ducem, imminente bello palam consulem suffragio suo fecit, atque id mirantibus quibusdam respondit, a cive se spoliari malle quam ab hoste venire. Ita hic si fuisset orator, non defendisset eundem Rufinum vel manifesti peculatus reum?
XLIV. Multa dici possunt similia, sed vel unum ex iis quodlibet sufficit. Non enim hoc agimus, ut istud illi quem formamus viro saepe sit faciendum, sed ut, si talis coegerit ratio, sit tamen vera finitio oratorem esse virum bonum dicendi peritum.
XLV. Praecipere vero ac discere quo modo etiam probatione difficilia tractentur necessarium est. Nam frequenter etiam optimae causae similes sunt malis, et innocens reus multis veri similibus premitur, quo fit ut eadem actionis ratione defendendus sit qua si nocens esset. Iam innumerabilia sunt bonis causis malisque communia, testes litterae suspiciones opiniones. Non aliter autem veri similia quam vera et confirmantur et refelluntur. Quapropter ut res feret flectetur oratio, manente honesta voluntate.

2005-05-17T20:11:00.000+08:00

Mental disturbances of the day

On Girls and National Service
Was looking through some directives when I chanced upon the Enlistment Act. Was smiling after I finished reading it. The good news is...girls are liable for national service too! When I first spotted that loophole, I thought it was a genuine error until I did further research and found out that the loophole was deliberate! It lies in the ambiguous wording of 'servicemen'. On the topic of enlistment, servicemen is used to classify those liable for national service subject to conditions, meaning guys aged 16.5 to 50 years. However, later on in the same directive, servicemen was also used to describe regulars (people who sign on to serve in the army full-time as a career). Now, while the majority of regulars are male, there are females. One must conclude that 'servicemen' is intended as a term for both sexes. While currently only the men are called up, there is a possibility that in the event of war or civil crisis or a critical shortage of manpower, females can be immediately called up without need for significant change in the wording of the Enlistment Act.

On POWs
But what I was really searching for was the legal complexities on providing medical aid to prisoners-of-war (POWs). There is a whole document on treatment of POWs, I call it the document of lies. Who really believes that we should treat POWs like VIPs?!? Allow them to write letters home? Are you kidding, this is a war. We should be engaging all possible means of defeating the enemy and that includes exerting domestic pressure on the opposing government or entity. Nothing is more worrying to the families of POWs than no news. Push them to call for their government to stop the war, and half the battle is won. We are in the business of defense, not war.

On my bunkmate
I always thought this guy was calling his girlfriend. He's on the phone constantly so much that his upperstudy privately complained to me. "F*****'s always on the phone, missing in action, slow to get things done and way too innocent." One fine day (night actually), I eavesdropped. Turns out that his mum is on the other end. And I thought mummy's boys were extinct in this day and age. His mum must have really pampered him though. Am not about to list out his frailties. While I live, I learn.

On God
One of the most common arguments defending God when critics attack God goes along the lines of, "The wisdom of God is infinite while our wisdom is finite. Therefore, we are not capable of understanding him." Sounds logical but it's not. This argument is flawed from the foundation because infinity and finity are human concepts. To use this argument is to backfire by saying that we made God in our image, that we invented God. Ah, but why are infinity and finity human concepts? Because infinity came about only when we found out that we cannot spend our entire lifetime counting something that's so numerous like the number of atoms used to construct say, the Supreme Courthouse. Infinity does not exist for God because God is omnipotent, he can if he so wishes finish counting any substance; he does even need to count, he knows. He is not limited by time.

On malingering
Never assume you can malinger and get away with it. This guy came to report sick for a fever. Five minutes later, I spotted him drinking hot water to drive up his temperature. I could have waited ten minutes for his temperature to drop before calling him in to take his temperaure. But no, the devil in me gets jealous when other people get MCs whether of genuine concerns or not while I have to continue slogging. So I played along with him. Then I went to the doctor telling him to give any MCs to that guy but to send him to the sickbay so I can poke him with the biggest needle there is to drive his "fever" down. (insert evil laughter) Well, actually he got away easy, the proper procedure is to charge him for malingering and then send him to the Detention Barracks. I should have done that but I'm too soft-hearted to do that. Surprise surprise.

On Desperate Housewives
Somebody up there has got a problem with me watching shows. Seems like whenever I get the time to relax and watch a show or two, the batteries of the mini-tv dies out. And they never die out when the rest are watching. Damn, eva longoria really looked good in the last few seconds I got to see her in a bikini before the batteries went on strike.

2005-05-15T21:00:00.000+08:00

There's a difference between having nothing to blog and not feeling like blogging. I never fall prey to the former but the latter bugs me now. But I'll try.

Was reading this book written by a Chinese author who defied social norms by waxing a story based on the taboo topic of foot binding. Typically light-hearted, it was a story of a girl who grew up to become a beauty because of her 2.7 inches feet, her struggle against the natural feet society so as to protect her position in her family where power was dictated according to the size of the ladies' feet. Not particularly a piece of genius but the book got me interested enough to do some research. Heh. Very uhh...enlightening.

Speaking of chastity, bound feet became a major erotic zone. "When a Celestial takes into his hand a woman's foot, especially if it is very small, the effect upon him is precisely the same as is provoked in a European by a young and firm bosom..." It was believed that the way foot binding made a woman walk strengthened the vagina and made it more narrow. The girls' buttocks and "jade gate" were believed to develop to such a degree that she could grip her husbands "jade spear" more tightly. It was also thought that with the smaller feet the nerves were more concentrated and that this made them a major erogenous zone. Poetry and writings from this period express a great infatuation even an obsession bordering on perversion, for small feet. There was also a large number of pornographic paintings and engravings with scenes of men fondling women's feet. It's no wonder that men were so adamant about their wives having bound feet.

Now I've got an excuse to be a pervert. It's all in the genes!

Well..better stick to safer topics. Who knows, I may get a lawsuit one day as easily as the two bloggers who were threatened. As of 15th May, my mum has completed watching ten different Korean serials, the latest one being 'Sunshine of Love'. Because the computer is just next to the tv, I have also absorbed quite some korean. For example, I can safely tell you that an-ju means 'love' in korean while huhu means 'I am crying'. Okay, just conjectures on my part but I sure wish that those Koreans will move beyond sob-fests romance shows.

Anyways, as expected, the Saints hockey guys romped into the semi-finals with style, thrashing last year's 2nd runner-up, njc with a big scoreline. Justice after the pain of missing out on the semi-finals last year to two inferior teams *coughs* pjc *coughs* njc *coughs* due to the stupidity of the draw. My superior has rejected my application for leave so I probably can't go and watch the match. *sigh* This year might be our best yet. I have trained with those guys so I know they are good and better than we were last year. If we only lost by one goal in the last 5 minutes of the game to the champions last year and we are stronger than ever this year, the rest had better watch out=)

2005-05-09T21:50:00.000+08:00

Early morning was distressing. For a moment I thought I was sleep-walking when I found myself clutching my left hand stumbling for the bunk door and flumbling for the light. Then my brain caught up with the rest of my body then the pain signals started to shoot in. Pinched nerve, the doctor called it.

Morning on the first day of the week, I sat down at the desk staring at the pile of work left, unfinished business from the previous week and three months worth of shit left from the guy who came before me and was posted out. Made a couple of phonecalls to Alexandra Hospital and then the 93th Armoured Brigade. Got passed around like a sack of unwanted potatoes. Friend calls in to report sick, effectively doubling my workload. Bloody fuck of a day begins properly. I start off my first email of the day, "Good Morning M***, as you know, it is a cardinal sin for any medical centre to be equipped with an unreliable ECG machine. Should an emergency case come in, and the machine happens to be down, the consequences will be very undesirable..."

Afternoon comes and lunch break rolls by without me knowing I missed it. Ordered a guy to get a lunch ration box for me from the cookhouse. Ate 3 mouthfuls of rice before I finally succumbed to the fact that I wasn't hungry. Gave the rest of the food to the rest. Email pings. Tan wants to check whether several MCs are with us or not. I sigh and stretch for the MC 'IN' box. I take out an envelope with "Problematic MCs you really want to shred" scrawled boldly across the front in my handwriting. Nope. MCs aren't with us. The storms withdraw for now. Continue work.

Mid afternoon. Time for lecture. I head to the classroom to begin presenting the statistics of the quaterly report. They say, in medicine, patients only care about 100% and 0%. They only care about whether the treatment works or not. I find myself agreeing more and more with this and time goes by. Crawled out of the classroom back to the document area to process the NSmen nominal roll.

Late afternoon. I finally snap.

10pm at night now. I've just finished clearing my work for the day. Everything's builing up into a big sticky mess. C just called me with a non too happy tone. She wants to know how I got into NUS Law with less than perfect grades when "I, with quadruple As couldn't". I ask her how she found out when I had told most people that I had gotten into social sciences instead. Promised her a call later tonight. It's such a waste though, she will make a better lawyer than me. Why make a fuss out of it when I'm gonna appeal anyways and I know my appeal will succeed. Much better to keep things quiet. It's a pain growing into a man. Everyone starts to take you too seriously. Then there's all the backstabbing and the desultory moods everyone gets into. I want out. Now if everyone in camp will just avoid being sick for just 3 days and let me clear the backload on my tray, I'll be immensely thankful=)

At high noon
Or in the dark moonless night there is a light.
Can you see it?
And, by the way, who are you?

2005-05-08T20:30:00.000+08:00

The first time I read Acidflask's blog was quite some months ago. His crusade against a certain government agency's way of picking scholars had already begun. I remember reading with amusement and wondering when the authorities would pick up on it and what they would do. As it is, he's been sued. Certainly not the best of ways to encourage young singaporeans to speak up.

I often get early notice on policies that are about to be passed or market news from acquaintances in the know. A few times, I peach in when I feel a particular area of thought has not been covered sufficiently, usually on pet topics or the occasional topic that hits a sore spot in me. Usually, welfare and education for the disabled, discrimination, education and religion. But many times, when my arguments are added in the fray, some member of that inner group of white clad men rejects it because it constitutes too great a political risk. Which makes me wonder why they even asked for my opinion.

Ah well, the miracle is when I feel hungry, I eat. When I feel thirsty, I drink.

2005-05-07T23:59:00.000+08:00

I'm never good enough. I so hate it when I have nobody to talk to about my troubles. Nobody I can open up to. All that hurt disguised in empty bravado. I try to do things right, to live life perfectly, because I'm so afraid of hurting people. But I forget all the things that hurt myself. I seek forgiveness from the people who know who they are. I hope they read this. You and you.

2005-05-02T22:08:00.000+08:00

Have just finished two books by Scott Dilbert. 'God's Debris' and 'The Religion War'. Dilbert is the famous cartoonist who's work is featured in almost every major newspaper around the world if you didn't already know. Those two books were his first and only? non humorous works. I think..I expected more. The books reminded me somewhat of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy but sadly, there's nothing enlightening. Cartoonists should stick to what they do best.

Flectere si nequeo Superos, Acheronta movebo!
-one of my favourite quotes-
If I cannot move heaven, I shall raise hell!

2005-05-01T03:26:00.000+08:00

Other people so power so popular lor. Got SMU, NUS, NTU admission letters. Even got angmoh university admission letters. I only got NUS admission letter. But maybe that's cause I only applied to NUS? >_<

Am considering whether to take up official driving lessons. It'll mean having to use my nights off but still....I'll like to just get this out of the way. With the practice I've been getting every occasional weekend at the top floor of a secluded carpark, should be okay larrrrh. Someone check it out for me please? But you see, I'll have seven months or so of nothing to do when I ORD from the army so maybe lessons can wait. Arghh..I don't know. Army life is getting monotonous. Every night, I read for one hour, study for one hour, watch tv for one hour, play squash/badminton for one hour. And then I sleep.

I actually miss studying. Looking back now, it was crazy. Hockey or tennis training would end almost every night around 8pm. By the time I was done bathing and eating dinner and travelling home, it would been around 10pm. Then I destressed, surfing the net for around 2 hours before I engaged in revision till my work was done. It would have been around 3am by the time I went to bed. Then I wake up at 6am to start another long day.

Ask me again, do I regret taking up two sports that each require so much time that most people called me crazy. I don't. Hockey provided a contrast to the individual game that was tennis. It was enlightening relearning the basics, albeit of another sport. Sometimes I get so bored with tennis because I hit a plateau in trying to master the more difficult but wickedly and sadly neccessary tricks like hitting the ball between my legs with my back to the net. In hockey, the only way for a beginner like me was up. I could see and feel the improvement with every session. My studies suffered. Yes, but I had my goal right from the start. You don't need perfect As to get into NUS Arts and Social Sciences. Besides, I still did particularly well in the subjects I had more interest in. If I had been aiming to get into medicine, there is no way I would have risked my studies to take up another sport. But still, I gave my best in everything. How many people can boast of being able to represent their school in two different sports if they want to and still do relatively well in studies? I miss being so busy.

Tomorrow begins my new life. If I want to graduate top of the cohort in my university faculty (and I will), the preparation starts now.

2005-04-23T21:45:00.000+08:00

So it is that the man I thought best to lead the Catholic Church was not sworn in. I should have remembered that the church would never have made two bold moves in one go. The consequences are far-reaching. Pope John Paul II was a great theologian. After Aquinos, and Augustine, both of whom built upon Plato and Aristotle respectively, the Catholic Church lacked, no, begged for a strong and intellectual theologian. That was until Pope John Paul II came in. Strides were made, but at great cost of moderate ideology. The next pope is poorly placed to stem the losses. The developing world, in particular Africa, which would have appreciated a black pope so much may not be able to connect to the new pope. To be true, God is able to work with imperfect tools. What happens if there is no God? Hegel will be laughing now.

And fate, whose wings can fly?
Noble, ignoble, fate controls: once born, the best must die.

2005-04-23T20:55:00.000+08:00

11 chin-ups
9.9 seconds for shuttle run
258cm for Standing Broad Jump
46 sit-ups
47cm for Sit and Reach
9 minutes 57 seconds for 2.4km run
I got my gold=)

2005-04-17T20:08:00.000+08:00

People say that it's the small gestures in a relationship that make or break it. *snorts* That's too far off from the reality that we live in. What will I do as the male party? I'll aim to make sure she never needs what she needs, that she's comfortable, and that life is good for her. That's what is important. Because I can't be bothered to conjure up small gestures that aren't worth the trouble. Because I'm a lazy doofus. Which explains why I was too lazy to tell the barber that I only wanted him to trim the sides and the back. Which explains the hair-raising sight of my head, literally and metaphorically.

2005-04-15T21:27:00.000+08:00

Another half-japanese got posted into my unit. Now I feel like some half-baked poor cousin of two handsome jap guys when I show them around the camp. One's called Takashi and the other is called Kenji and I'm called what?!? Plain old nax=( Everyone call me Naxashi from now on!

Another brigade run tomorrow early morning. But at West Coast Park this time. Then I'll probably spend the day in Malaysia. Another good weekend ahead...

2005-04-14T20:26:00.000+08:00

In my unit, I can play squash or basketball or soccer or badminton and even snooker. There are some arcade machines and there's a tv of course. Actually, I have a personal mini tv which means I won't have to miss next year's soccer World Cup when the matches are held late at night. There's a cafe where I can buy duty-free beer (not that it matters much to me) and an internet room where I can well..surf net. I sleep in a cosy four men bunk with two fans. I have nights off twice a week. Lunch break lasts for two hours, long enough for me to catch a one hour siesta everyday. And I happen to stay 15 minutes from camp.

In other units, other people have no access to squash or snooker facilities. They probably have to watch channels they might not have chosen if they were the one in possession of the remote control. There are no cafes serving really cheap and heavenly fish and chips and internet is a no-no. They sleep in 10 men saunas and they have only one or zero nights off a week. Lunch is a rush because they are given a specific timing to report back. And they spend one hour travelling home.

Okay, so I admit it, my life in the army is good. But playing tennis at the Swissotel isn't something I do everyday. So let's just drop the hoo-haa okay. Ultimately, we are both victims of the state. Our freedom isn't ours to command.

But anyways! Here's a story I found in Days were the Those. The unit and camp mentioned are -my- unit and camp.

George the Yishun Terror

2005-04-12T21:52:00.000+08:00

This really is a continuation of sunday's entry, what I would have continued to typed had there not been an urgent need to go off to camp.

A very sad tune has been replaying itself again and again in my mind the past few days. The one and only time I heard the song was six years ago. The lyrics have slipped my mind, and the song content have become blurry with the ages. But I remember this much, that it was a song about a father rushing his ill son to the doctor on a horse carraige. The song is very haunting. The son cries to his father about seeing the king of hell running after them. The father attempts vainly to reassure his son that he cannot see the king of hell chasing after them. A short while later, the song picks up again. The son cries with greater urgency that he sees the king of hell nearer now. The father whispers back, telling his son to hang on till they reach the doctor. This cycle continues until a climax is reached. The son cries/sings like never before, that he sees the king of hell again and he comes for him. The son dies. The best part of the song is that, the whole thing was sung by one man, the son's high-pitch fearful cries, the father's desperate throated replies, even the clip-clopping of the horse's feet. I hope someone knows what's the title of this song so I can download it. Right now, I keep getting christian songs in my searches because the only line of the song I can remember is.."Oh father, oh FATHER! The hell king's come...."

I wonder what it would have been like for the son. To see his own death and or the manifestation of it creeping upon him, helplessly calling to his father who could do naught to save him. I've given thought of how I would spend my last hours. I wouldn't want to spend them restlessly wondering if I had sinned or whether there was a Creator God waiting to judge me. I told my friend this and she said, "so why don't you just convert?" I've given thought to this question of course. But no, I will never convert based on fear or on emotional weakness. It is unrefutatable fact that the existence of God cannot be proven in any way but for the reason of "Because He comforts me." It is the one and only argument for God that is flawless, though I do not use the word 'perfect'. It disappoints me somewhat when I test my friends and ask them why they believe in God. They get jumpy. Maybe they think I'm out to undermine their faith. They know I know the bible well enough to refute most grandmother stories that try to prove God's existence. Rememeber the story about the student using the professor's own logic to prove that if God did not exist, then the professor's brain also did not exist. The "cannot see, cannot touch, cannot feel" argument, also likened to the "wind exists" argument. Well, there are three ways to prove such an argument is ludicrious but let's not go into details here. Most people give me some variation of that, the rest walk a circle pointing the bible. Come on people, for all the 'For God' arguments that float around, all are easily defeated and disproven but the sole fact that He comforts you as an emotional and moral rock. I have come to terms with my own beliefs on the existence of God. They are logically unshakable. That itself will give me comfort in my last hours. If God exists, he knows that I have tried as best as I could to live a good man's life. He knows that I have done my research. And I say that with charity. He knows that the facts and logic at hand and currently in the world slant towards the non-existence of a God. He knows that I will not doubt if I had no reason to doubt, and that should I be judged one day before Him and there upon, realising that God exists, I'll be more than happy to convert immediately before Him. If God does not exist, then I know, I have lived my life exactly the way I want it to be. Not at the gun hole of a Christian condemning me to hell, not at the pricking of my own conscience in converting when nothing at all proves His existence.

But I say all these at the age of eighteen. We never know what can happen.

Snippets from two of my more recent diary (the real life one) entries

Playing tennis at the Swissotel in the heart of the city with the skyline all around you is always a great experience. Even more so when you get to soak in the delights of Asia's largest spa after the match. Throw in a lunch at the lounge and the package turns unbeatable. All paid by the SAF. Just another day in the army... I speak in jest of course. Today wasn't an ordinary day.

I confess to feeling a tad wormish when I have to get an injection. I just have this conception that the needle will go right through my arm. And hey, I'm skinny, there's some basis in my conception. Today, I found out that being on the other side of the needle isn't much better. I get wormish just poking the needle into other people's forearm. -_-" And as chance would have it, the patient I was directed to handle was a difficult one. His blood just refused to flow. And I needed two tubes of his blood. Now, this fellow is bizarre. Either he's incredibly clumsy or he's just weak. After drawing just one tube of blood, I decided to give him (and me) a break. I turned my back to store the tube and then he FELL OFF THE CHAIR and semi-fainted. I was like.."OH WTF, WHAT HAVE I JUST DONE?!?"

2005-04-10T21:34:00.000+08:00

My mum broke the news to me that she has a secret savings account that she never told my father about. I can see why. Money, in the hands of my father, does not stay around long. I gave my entire Chinese New Year Hongbao money to my father, trusting that he would bank it in for me, but no, the money is gone. But that's not the main issue now. The issue is, my mum wants to help me pay for my university fees. I refuse. I have the money to pay for university myself. I didn't start saving up in secondary two for nothing. I'll rather she keep the money for her retirement. I never had many material goods. Never owned a walkman that was the fad years ago, never possessed any electrical portable music players of any sort, never had even a humble camera back in the days before digital technology emerged or a digicam, my handphone was and is always the cheapest available on the market and I got my handphone two years after most people got theirs. I remember how my friends would spend money on multiple digimons back in primary school, while I had to cajol my younger sis into pooling money to buy a second-hand digimon from my friend. Life then, was not easy. I grew up understanding the importance of money because my family was in debt for slightly more than half my life. So when I spend two hundred dollars on my tennis racket at a bargain sale, it is a purchase that I've thought long and hard about. When I spend generously on my friends' birthday presents, I spend only because they are worth it. It hurts sometimes when people assume I'm rich because the gifts I give are seldom cheap. Maybe they don't realise how long I take to decide when I look at the price tag but it doesn't matter after awhile. I give without expecting anything in return. I have seen my mum collecting five-cents and one-cents in a bag to repay our debt, my heart breaks just thinking about it now. Why should my mum pay for my university and effectively draw money from her retirement pool?

Was so amused when I read a blog written by a girl who's worried about her boyfriend enlisting in the army. Not the first of that type I had read, amusing nonetheless. Oh come on, a little worry is normal, worry to the point of obsession and tears isn't. Tekong isn't that bad after awhile. It actually is fun. I still have very fond memories of my stay there, of waking up at ungodly hours to the cool sea breeze, of marching and singing to the cookhouse, of the laughter, of the awed silence every evening as we watched the sun set and the gatherings around the long table where we shared grouses or just shine our boots. Sure, things could have crazy but the camaraderie forged was priceless. I remember the late night chats we had, the pranks we played, getting into trouble together, sticking up for each other, and even the arguments that were inevitable when you stick 10 men together for many days. Girls always complain that we guys talk too much about the army, but that's only because entering the army is life-changing.

The army opened my eyes to a whole new breed of men out there. There are people who backstab with no shame, malingerers, truly stupid people (and I say this with no offense but as matter of fact), and people from broken families. My friend has lost all contact with both his parents, another lives with the shame of having a father hung for drug offences, another lives only with his mother who never has time for him, yet another has a father in jail and a mother who has disappeared. And the list just goes on. I have learnt never to badmouth even the worst of culprits for politics is insidious enough but you never know when that fateful phrase will come back to haunt you. I've learn that not everybody starts a friendship in true spirit. I have seen for myself the many quirks of men. I never thought some people could be so affected by their loss of freedom that they would actually attempt suicide, not once, but twice. Another just cannot take verbal abuse because he reacts badly to stress. I have actually seen him squatting and facing the wall, yelling and crying away for one hour after he was reprimanded. I will never view the world with my old tainted eyes again.

Yet, I'm coming to terms with my next twenty months to go. I've actually realised that I am in a very privileged position. Not everyone gets to be in SAFSA and represent the SAF. Entrance to this club is by invitation only and well before actual enlistment. It grants me many privileges though I shall not elaborate. These privileges do have their price. Most people do not realise that though the sportsmen in SAFSA can outsprint and outlast most of the other enlistees, half of these sportsmen are not combat fit. Sports injuries take their toll. I for one, have weak leg joints although I run, react and accelerate faster than most people. The years of stomping my feet on the hard tennis court has done my legs no favours. It gets irritating that people get jealous just because we do not have to go for as many training as they do. And then, not everyone gets to be a medic. We perform arguably, the most meaningful job in the SAF.

2005-04-05T22:09:00.000+08:00

Say hello to more privacy! I have finally moved from a 10 men enlistee's bunk to a 4 men specialist's bunk. Needless to say, it's much more cosy with personal pillows on the beds and even bolsters sneaked successfully pass the guards. All four cupboards are unlocked. It's almost like a trust contract and I really appreciate that considering that back in the enlistee's bunk, I used to have snacks disappearing mysteriously from my cupboard. Actually I know who stole my snacks, but I never made a fuss because my cupboard was locked. What I mean is it does takes quite some effort and time to pick the lock and anyone picking the lock has sufficient time for his conscience to knock on the moral door. That he chose not to open the door means angry words from me wouldn't have changed a thing. My bed now has a great view of the outdoors, let's hope that translates into more inspiring diary entries.

Sometime in the first month of my enlistment, while I was lying on the bed trying to get to sleep, a random thought popped into my mind. 'To hell with insomnia, start writing!' So every night, I've been writing entries religiously in my notebook. And if I'm not doing that, I'm masturbating. Mental masturbation! What were you thinking? Philosophy is often described as mental masturbation. Just do a google search on 'Philosophy as mental masturbation' to get what I mean. Or -just- read this. Which was what I was reading last night.

To be a human being, Sartre has told us so far, is to be this concrete concious being, this being-for-itself, confronting a kind of being which it is not, the being of jobject, of causally determined things, of being-in-itself. To be a concious being is to be aware of a gap between my conciousness and its objects; it is to be in the world, and yet to be aware of not being one of the causally determined objects of the world; it is to be aware of a distance, an emptiness, a gap that separates me from the region of things.

Okay..I'm bizarre. Live with it.

2005-04-03T22:16:00.000+08:00

I was asked in a routine interview my thoughts on being posted to starlight for three months. That means being sent to Taiwan for three months. We'll see it goes then.
The pope has been called home. He did much for the world. He apologised for catholics sin committed in the past. Something I find very notably given the rigidity of the Catholic church in recognising past atrocities. I believe he made mistakes. His gravest mistake was his resistance to change, that the centralisation of the church allowed the bishops to play legal hardball and hide known pedophile priests behind a PR screen. It served him well against communism and sometimes, capitalism, but it was not and cannot be a cure all. The pope was an intelligent and scholarly man. The next pope has big shoes to fill.

Salvum fac populum tuum, Domine,
et benedic hereditati tuae.
Et rege eos,
et extolle illos usque in aeternum.

Blog more next time. *sigh*

2005-03-31T22:03:00.000+08:00

It's been calculated that hitting a tennis ball travelling at 30km/hr is equivalent to lifting a 25kg weight. I drown my sorrows in tennis. Just whaming and slamming the ball at speeds in excess of 100km/h against the wall drives out alot of my initial anger and sorrow.

The flower droops, the flower droops and fall,
The vapours weep their burthen to the ground,
She comes and plows the heart and lies beneath.
And after many a summer dies the stalk.

The heart decays, the heart decays and sinks,
The voices urge their whispers in the wind,
He comes to make a stand and quell the blues.
And after many a winter bursts the bud.

-drafted by nax, in a nonsensical sentimental mood at 1am in the dead of the night-

2005-03-30T14:43:00.000+08:00

Secured a one day mc. That's all I could get I guess. Still feeling pretty weak and stuff. And irritable.

Last night was a torture. I desperately needed the sleep but the stuffy bed and the flimsy sheet they call a blanket was making things worse. After three months of living in shared rooms, I still cannot get used to sleeping with other people under the same roof. You see, I approach privacy with massive doses of what shall I call it? Maniakos. I sleep fretfully if the room is not secured, and if it's not, I have to cover my entire being with the blanket. But a blanket provides little protection save the emotional reassurance that what you cannot see, you cannot fear. So I just lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, glancing every now and then to watch the undulating figures of my bunk mates in slumberland. I really wished I had a book to read then.

I've lost track of the total number of books I've read over the years. Definitely in the five figure range or more. There were days I would devour ten 500 pages novels in one go and there were the languid nights I would spend re-reading some particular book. I miss the old Jurong East library that was smaller, dicken-ensque even but much more comforting to the bookworm in me. The new building is much grander but appeals to none of the sensory glands in me. I haven't had much time to read these days. My regret.

Ever noticed that when we get a child genius these days, we go, hey, put him in the science class. Why don't we ever go, hey, give him a guitar, a racket or a paintbrush...

Granddad was superstitious about books. He thought that if you had enough of them around, education leaked out, like radioactivity.- Johnny and the Dead

2005-03-29T21:00:00.000+08:00

I know I told three people that I would do some stuff for them tonight but with a 38 degrees fever, I'm just not in the mood to browse through html codes or type out smu interview formats okay? And the worst thing is, I still had to work. Or in the medical officer's words, "you are too essential." Knnbccbljcbwtfbbqlpplpcb. He just didn't want to take on a greater work load. Sum in the fact that I've been using a crutch to get around because my left heel hurts too much when I place even the slightest weight on it, it's been a rocky, feeble day.

Opening acceptance letters from universities in the US and Britain now. I sound like some brainiac eh? Not really, I never applied to those dingy places. On a happier, more self-contended note, I've been told by a professor in NUS who I know personally that while my grades aren't the best around, my sat and other achievements can carry me into any faculty except medicine. So I was agonising over law or business ad or econs. Concidentially, I got to enter the Court of Appeal in the Supreme Court yesterday. Very majestic. Small but supremely awesome. I got to sit the witness's box as well as on the lawyer chairs. But damn, judges' chairs were out of bounds. Haha. Just standing in that corinthian room brought me back to days past when I was young and would dream of making a stunning oration as a lawyer. So very grand. But grand is not nax. So it was down to econs (with the maths it would bring) and business ad. Confirmation from a maths teachers that maths in econs is basically statistics sealed the internal debate. So that's one less thing keeping me awake in the nights. Now will all my other troubles just disappear?

A friend sms-ed me this.
He who has a why to live can bear with almost any how. Every experience you have however bad is still an experience to add in your collage of life...Nietzche

2005-03-27T18:10:00.000+08:00

With Iskandar as goalkeeper, Julian as sweeper and me as the stopper, it was hockey all over again as we resumed the central defensive partnership that was the rock of the Saints hockey team. Except that it was soccer we were playing. But the understanding was intact as we kept out the goals. Not a single goal was scored against us as we battled to a 2-0 winning margin. Not that we deserved it, considering that we were playing against men 15 years our senior but who were running around like jubilant spring chickens celebrating the end of the slaughter season. Saturday was spent out of the house as well. So I had a good friday, saturday and sunday=) I feel ready to go back to camp now that my fun meter is topped up for the week.

Another time-wasting list
List your proudest achievement for each year of your life
2004: Named best player for the hockey match against vjc by coach
2003: Topped GP Promos if you exclude the dumb 10% from class participation marks
2002: Vice-captain for RV tennis team in the 'B' division national finals and a short stint in the national squad
2001: First prize in a national essay-writing competition, it was the breakthrough I had been looking for
2000: Performing at the National Stadium as part of the Grand Finale for the SYF Opening Ceremony. I was the Dragon tail.
1999: This sounds bizarre but well..appointed umpire for the decider match between ACS(I) and SJI that would decide which team would go into the semis
1998: Scored well enough to get into Special stream in seconday school?=X
1997: Selected as one of only ten out of fifty to be in the mini-tennis school team
1996: Getting tough now..ermm..EM1 stream?
1995: Topped the class in science and maths? Haha..but it was a lousy class
1994: The metamorphosis from the bullied to the bully
1993: Buying food from the canteen by myself?
1992: Graduated from kindergarden
1991: Chosen as one of the five better artists to draw an artwork for the school
1987-1990: ??? Cannot remember anything
1986: I came to this world!

2005-03-24T22:13:00.000+08:00

The medic's job is sacred.
Get me to send you the song if you are interested...

Verse 1
Our nation called as need arose
For stations in the field
To treat our fallen brothers all
The wounded and the ill
Our pioneers raillied to this call
Then thousands joined this band
And soon a new cry could be heard
A ringing through the land

Medics all are we
The medics of the field
We serve the wounded and sick
The brave who will not yield
Our hearts we give our skills
We share with valour, pride and will
No matter when we're battle ready
The medics of the field

Verse 2
The sound of battle in their ears
The wounded lie around
A hundred cries for "MEDIC!" rise
From those upon the ground
We run to heed their every call
Bring care that they deserve
Our mission bold, our purpose clear
To seek and save and serve

Verse 3
They come to us by land and sea
They're sent to us by air
The wounded and dying too
For treatment and for care
By day or night, in war or peace
We serve the best we can
The lifeline of the SAF
We're there for every man

2005-03-22T21:15:00.000+08:00

Let me count the number of people I know working in Starhub. 24. Citibank? 16. The number of Kelvins I know? 11. So on and so forth. I was counting down the remaining twenty minutes to book out when a call came in. Two emergency cases were on their way.

The first guy came in drooling at the mouth, body racking from anxiety. His chest was thumping so hard that he was practically doing a half sit-up with every breath he took. We rushed him off to the resuscitation bay. He was delirious and it was taking 5 men to keep him still. What followed next is basically what you see on ER. The clipping of the blood pressure monitor on his finger, inserting the needle into his arm to allow electrolytes to rehydrate him and everything else. The situation then was alarming. We had to calm him down but he refused to calm down. The body's fight mechanism was in full play here. He was using up his last reserves of energy to survive but he was doing it the wrong way. Considering that he had collapsed precisely because his body lacked the strength to continue, it was pertinent that he was calmed down. The second case came in at this point. Crazy stuff. The second guy was in worse shape. He wasn't resisting much but that was because he was way too tired. And he was foaming at the mouth. Quite a major danger sign. His chest was heaving so hard and dramatically that most of the medics recognised the danger and went to the second case.

There wasn't much for Dr Robin to do here. Everyone knew exactly what to do but we needed a voice of authority to get the two cases to calm down. He did it brilliantly, raising his voice, showing that he was in charge. He was there reassuring the two cases, telling, no, demanding that they trust us. Much of what later occured is too technical for me to explain. But we had to strip the second guy naked and that despite finishing a pack of Ringer's solution, he was still having trouble breathing. There was nothing much we could do but send him to hospital. Just another day in the medical centre. Tomorrow I'll be out in the field playing my role in the war exercise. I think..I like my job.

I think it's sad that guys not even old enough to vote legally are being taught to handle firearms. The first time one carries the rifle, it feels strangely heavy. Not so much the weight of the gun, though it -is- heavy, but rather the sense of responsibility. I've been given the chance to be a medic, with the area of field communication my speciality. Though I have the duty to heal lifes, I see it as my privilege. I just hope that one day, all the things I read about, about full thickness white burns, the two hour limit on operations on the battlefield with abdomens not stitched up before being passed on to the next military doctor and everything will not be played out in a war.

2005-03-20T18:20:00.000+08:00

I just didn't want to go out this weekend. Everytime I go out on a weekend, I feel so beat by sunday night that it becomes a struggle to get through the rest of the week. I was surreptiously avoiding smses and calls from people who wanted to ask me out. Look, my work is tough and emotionally draining, let me have a break on the two days I call rest days. I will go out only if I want to. Maybe next week. I've got 20bucks worth of Borders vouchers, 20bucks worth of Sakae Sushi, 10 bucks worth of Swensons, 50 bucks worth of Mph. Hehe...

2005-03-19T21:59:00.000+08:00

One of the last person you want to offend when you are in the army is me. One guy thought he that since he was ORD-ing soon, he could fool around with me. For one month, I swallowed the abuse, turned a deaf ear to the taunts, signed the extras. But the sms he sent me on his last day in the army was the last straw. Off I went for a tete-a-tete with the brigade commander. Pulled some strings. And then, the next day, I said hi to him again. His ORD was cancelled. He has to come back everyday to the army to work for the next one and a half months. Ask any guy how he'll feel about having to work an extra 6 weeks in the army on the day he thought he had finally regained his freedom. He'll be gutted to the core. Because freedom is that precious. Nobody offends me and gets away with it.

But anyhow, I've finished my attachment to my previous unit. Am now a medical comms ic specialist. First full day of work at the medical centre yesterday and it -was- eye-opening. People come in for the weirdest reasons! Ulcers, wok dropped on right foot and get this, abscess on the base of penile shaft. Nice one, maybe you thought the doctor will be too disgusted to inspect your penis and will just give you a medical cert. But noooo, nothing is too private or gross for the medical community to inspect. I think it's just sad that so many guys suffer life-long injuries when they are in the army. Part of my work involves going through medical dockets. And there's the significant number who become depressed due to adjustment disorder. Though I burst out laughing when I read about the one who used to be sexually active but became too depressed to have sex with his gf after entering his unit. But it's not a laughing matter when you read about the people who are sent to the detention barracks and about those who comtemplate suicide. Army life is harsh. Some just cannot adjust to the fact that they have lost their freedom and the ability to do anything they want for two years. Ironically, one guy in my unit is not eager to get out of the army. He'll be sentenced once he ORDs and given his crime, it's definitely jail for him.

It's only in the army that I've gotten to know the real Singapore. Not the one where everybody aims to go university. Not the one where half the people I know are national players of some activity. But the one where half the people I know are smokers. Where having both parents in jail is accepted as no more than just another bend in life's road. I find it my fortune that I've been accepted into the unit. I finally feel like I belong. Just the other day at PS, I met one of the guys or rather, he saw me in the arcade and came up to chat.
Him: "Hey! You want to play the game? I pay for you. Oh yar, the cos said you forgot to book out the other time, never sign the book..the sentry guards all recognised you."
Me: "Shit, then what happen?"
Him: "Mei you, ta mei you hai ni..." (he didn't expose you)
My friends were all staring at me. Because that guy happened to be covered with tatoos all over his body. That he carried a motorcycle helmet certainly didn't help to allay their negative impressions.

2005-03-13T15:05:00.000+08:00

Mt. 24:24-26 "For false Christ's and false prophets will rise and show great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect. "See, I have told you beforehand. "Therefore if they say to you, 'Look, He is in the desert!' do not go out; or 'Look, He is in the inner rooms!' do not believe it."

Surely there is no argument about this now. But Benny Hinn himself says,

"Ladies and gentleman, Jesus is shaking the world! Now something else is happening that is to me awesome! Absolutely awesome! The Lord is physically appearing in the Muslim world. I'm telling you, Paul, I am hearing it now more and more and more. Since we preachers cannot go there, Jesus is - just going there Himself. Since we preachers are not permitted to go in, He is just showing up Himself. You know the Scriptures says clearly that the Lord did appear, did He not? Ah for forty days, isn't that right? And the Scriptures says he, he, he even, he even appeared to Paul…. He's doing the same thing today in the Muslim world. He's appearing, hear this, He is appearing to Muslims, saying I am Jesus of Nazareth! And they're coming to know the Lord!"

Another of his famous prophecies...
"The Spirit tells me -- Fidel Castro will die in the 90's. . . Holy Spirit just said to me, it'll be worse than any death you can imagine."

Well, the last I heard, Castro is still alive.

My last warning now. Benny Hinn serves the devil. Believe him at your own peril. I'm off to Suntec for another day of fun and joy=) And another bowl of Ajisen ramen at Plaza Singapura hopefully. Yesterday's bowl wasn't enough...

2005-03-13T15:00:00.000+08:00

My neighbour passed away. I came home on friday night, wondered why there was a crowd outside my neighbour's house, thought it was just another of their gatherings, went into the house. Then my older sis broke the news to me. She was the first to touch the old man. His wife had found him lying still on the floor and had not dared to touch him. She got my sis to shake him instead. No response, no breath. That was it. I hope it was a peaceful end for a man who always had ready smiles. He was in the pinkest of health, could walk without assistance and was often out of the house pruning his greens. No more. There is a hole to be filled. Who will tend the fishes and prune the greens now?

Yesterday afternoon, I went to the national indoor stadium to witness Benny Hinn's healing crusade. T'was a last minute decision to go. A flurry of phonecalls and smses later, I got some friends to reserve a seat for me. I feel bad? Yes. Thousands were waiting to get in and most of them had queued for a few hours yet the only work I did to get a prime seat was to wake up late in the morning, play a couple of computer games then hop into a cab to go to the indoor stadium just in time for the start of the service.

Having witnessed everything for myself, I say, it was a whole load of bullshit. If anyone chooses to take offense here, I'm not going to bother to defend myself. My record is clear here, I do not serve any purpose but the truth. I will state again that I know the bible better than most people do. And yes, I did make an effort to genuinely try to believe (I dropped 5 bucks in the envelope and more importantly, I left my ego and doubts at the stadium exit for the 3 hours I was there). In fact, I want to believe so and I state this knowing that I'll attacked for bias. If you disagree with me, you do not know your bible. Arrogant? Yes. Misplaced arrogance? No. I believe there is a possibility of true divine healing and I'll always continue to believe so until the day I am proven wrong. Remember, I want to believe in divine healing. But I do not believe in Benny Hinn.

How many times have we heard Hinn's failed prophecies and wild biblical teachings? Defenders say, it's all mistakes. Well, he has never admitted to those "mistakes". Note, his defenders do not even bother to make the argument that he did not make mistakes; they agree that there have been false prophecies. He says he sees visions in the name of the Holy Spirit, God and Jesus. Well, prophecies that are false in the name of God are NOT mistakes. As far as logic goes, there is no other way than to say spiritism is wrong, which leads to God is wrong. Or you can just say, Benny Hinn is wrong. If we are to believe that Hinn has visions, then we have to conclude that it is an evil spirit that speaks through him. Satan maybe? As someone who has access to the workings of some of the clearest minds (christians and non-christians) on religion and theology in the world, I say that Benny Hinn uses the name of the Lord in vain.

Point 1. The focus on "man"
During the songs, I was passed a paper that City Harvest Church (CHC is another deluded church that I shall not bother attacking. I'll just say that most of the other church leaders in Singapore disapprove of the way things are done in CHC) had given out during one of it's earlier service. It was a "what to expect" paper. One of the key points was the focus on "man" and "
presence" I ask my christian readers now. Can you find me any verse in the New Testament where people congregate for God's healing and miracles? It is always unexpected. Such congregations has no root in apostle teachings.

Point 2. Stewardship of God's money
I donated 5 dollars of my hard-earned money for Benny Hinn to stay in a 5-star hotel in a presidential suite. Benny Hinn stays at presidential suites almost everywhere he goes. Check the again. The apostles went out of their way to avoid looking like they lived a life of luxury. I really wanted to be healed and slain. I felt nothing. I only left the stadium wondering why did I donate five dollars to contribute to Benny Hinn's presidential suite bill? His exact words.
“Pray over the envelope, be specific with God, have a specific prayer for your harvest. If your looking for paying off your house or paying off your car or whatever you’re looking for ask God today, God is a God of specifics. Nothing becomes dynamic until it becomes specific. Be specific with the lord”
Can I bang my head on the wall now? I fail to see the correlation between money and healing.

Point 3. The lack of "healing"
Ask around, how many were truly healed? Most of say they experienced psychological upheaval. None experience true healing. Stories of the wheel-chair bound standing up during the crusade have more than meets the eyes. Some are not really crippled to the extent that they cannot stand before the service started. The truly wheel-chair bound were not healed. And NONE of Benny Hinn's staff bothered to coax them to stand. Of course, Mr Hinn has his two disclaimers. First, healing is not always instantaneous. Secondly, faith is needed for there to be healing. "Nothing is impossible." He kept urging the crowd to say yesterday. "It is his will to heal me." Fine dandy words but he cannot fool me. Did Jesus say, "repeat after me to be healed"? The atmosphere in the stadium is very charged up at this point. Some are crying, some are trembling. It's easy to be fooled into believing that God is at work here. But no. Faith is at work here, not God. It is already proven that Benny Hinn is a false prophet, as such, God cannot be at work here. There were the few who experienced nothing. Even my christian friends beside me felt nothing. Drawing on personal experience, adrenaline can easily explain why people were crying. I have been involved in many tennis matches that last two and a half hours under the scorching sun. I have sunk to my knees, muscles throbbing, eyes brimming with tears. But don't believe me. Believe proven facts about adrenaline. Ask your doctor. After all Benny Hinn has said that doctors are the servants of God.

Point 4. Gross contradictions
You must pray for yourself. Other people praying for you will not work, Benny Hinn kept repeating. Huh? But christian friends I know pray for other people. I don't even know how to point out the fault given that it's so obvious. Anyone at the indoor stadium notice that he used an example later about the centurion and his servant that totally contradicted what he said? Anyone? Anyone? No. Most people were too swept up in his charisma and his manipulation of their borrowed faith. He goes on, that people may lose their healing because they do not believe anymore. Benny Hinn's teaching on this is very wrong! Did the 8 lepers lose their healing because they did not come back to God? Did the centurions servant lose his healing? There are more contradictions that I can point out but this is just the many of the one.

Point 5. Touch!
It was like the sorry tale of the battlefield when Benny Hinn was done with his Touch! Everyone was lying on the floor, collapsed while the "Fire" was on them. Everyone was slain. This was the worst mistake he made. Read your bible again. How can Benny Hinn say something as though God has said it when he has not?

I conclude..it is Benny Hinn's healing crusade. NOT God's. His phamplets says it clearly. God is not mentioned anywhere in the cover page.

2005-03-10T19:50:00.000+08:00

I always thought I could easily find a job for anyone who approached me. So proved so wrong. When ws got me to help her find a job, the first number I called was a finance officer friend who worked on the 15th floor at Citibank. "I heard they (citiband) aren't hiring for the next month or so." Then I tried another friend at Starhub. "My manager told me Starhub isn't looking for contract workers for the next 6 months." Allen and Morgan then I thought. "There's only 1 intern at anytime and right now, we've already given it to your friend." Maybe Tango? "We prefer guys." Coffeebean? "Tell your friend to come for an interview tomorrow at Boat Quay." Which was just too far to go for an interview. Half an hour later after two banks, six listed companies later, I got nowhere. Paradigm change. Don't approach me to help you people find jobs anymore.

The Planning Room is getting more crowded as the clock ticks down each day to Exercise BA. I've been designated the terrain mapper and project group typist (what a lousy job title). I got a thrill tingling right down to my fingers the first day when I realised I was working on Top Secret documents. I still do. But other than that, it's pretty much tedious work, scanning the terrain, sticking up maps, and making the occasional trip down to the sentry gate to guide contractors into the camp. Digressing, being a lorry driver seems fun. You get to look down at all the other tiny vehicles on the road and feel the growl of the engine beneath your feet. Some voice in your mind pipes up, "Go on! Squash those puny cars." Back to topic, the downside of it all is that nights off have been cancelled until further notice. Not that it bothers me much now that I've found this gem of a computer with internet access in the camp. The day CB or BP flashes up on tv with the green man, my work will be done. For the moment. Until Operation J begins.

Isn't much I can do here since the comp is too slow to load some webpages so I'll just end things with a survey.

Last 5 phone conversations and how long did each last?
2WO S - 10 seconds?
Mum - 5mins
MSG M - 5mins
3SG P - 5mins
Wai Seen - Hmm..40mins?

Last 5 things ate
Koko Krunch
Prawn Mee
Biscuit
Rice with prawn omelette
Chee Cheong Fun

*mutters* This is lame so I'll just stop.

2005-03-06T10:44:00.000+08:00

To all who are wondering and to those who keep calling me but I refuse to pick up, my results were okay. I don't feel like proclaiming my results to the world and I don't think I'll ever do that anyways so the only thing I'll confirm is that yes, my gp got a distinction. Enough about 'A's okay?

Went out to harbourfront with the guys after collecting the results. Had originally intended to eat at yoshinoya but saw wx and her bf. So it was a change of plans to avoid being lightbulbs. We went subway to eat instead. It was a feast and famine approach. I had starved in the morning because I didn't really had any appetite. Now that the results were known and my greatest worries allayed, I rediscovered hunger all over again. Ate a 12 inch sandwich that was stuffed to the brim and potato chips. jL, alan and martin left after that to go for cell. The rest of us headed to bukit timah for some lan. Really, lan is the best thing to do. It's cheaper than watching a movie, provides more fun and the whole bunch of us can play together in the same game. Going town would have been too troublesome what with so many guys plus it would have been jammed with all the jc students milling around. The cell guys joined us around 9pm so we just hung around outside chatting. Was crumbling from fatigue by then so I headed home at 10pm to sleep. The rest went off to fund's house to stayover.

Morning the next day, yesterday, I went out again. Squash. Gym. Stone. Chat. Home. Curry chicken dinner. Out again. Woodlands for shopping. jL told me to get wx to join us at woodlands but just when I was about to call wx, alan called me asking me if I was free to walk around with him before he booked in. When the call ended, wx had already left my mind. Haha..sorry. I doubt you would have been free anyways. Walked around, finally bought what I wanted. Contemplated going over to daniel's house to join fer and martin to stayover. But again, the seduction of my bed at home was too bewitching to ignore. Finally hit the sack at 1am.

So that's all. Not very chronological. Anything to avoid talking about the 'A's.

2005-02-27T21:12:00.000+08:00

Pangseh-ed some people today because I suddenly didn't feel like going bowling at Tang Dynasty City. Besides, I needed to do some shopping though it turned out to be a waste of time because I couldn't find what I wanted. And for once, I wanted it to be me before others, to do what I want, not what others want me to do. And I just wanted to stroll around alone. To be anti-social. To savour the last moments of privacy before I go back to camp.

Pizza yesterday was great. Me and jl ordered the 4 person set meal and proceeded to stuff ourselves silly.
Me: "Hey..2 person set meal...13bucks person..want?"
Him: "4 person set meal only 17bucks per person!"
Me: "Oh ya!"
Takes one to know one.

2005-02-26T00:14:00.000+08:00

Actually. Nobody cares about me.

2005-02-26T00:10:00.000+08:00

I was once told that my lack of tact is really "hiding sadness". I know. Because I occasionally get in touch with it. Like in the nights mainly when an incredible sadness weighs down on my heart. I offend people easily because I say the wrong things at the wrong time. But that is me at my most vulnerable state of mind. So I try to block things out by reading intensively and keeping myself busy going on pizza outings and other stuff. As if my emotional trauma is not great enough, I've been unfairly accused of malingering. Injustice hurts me to the core. The worst thing is, my sadness is not imagined. It is a reality I have to live with.

2005-02-20T01:20:00.000+08:00

Hai..it's 1am now. Just received an sms.
'You there? Urgent. Can I sell you my duty tml for 150 dollars.. I am on one week mc, got fever and throat infection, totally cannot take duty at all..'
I can't refuse, can I? Not when it's so late and I'm probably his last hope.
'Hey bro, don't talk money, no need to pay me, just swop duty with me, you do on 28th, I do for you tml..and buy mac lunch for me'

So all my plans for tomorrow cancelled just like that. Plus, it's a sunday tomorrow which means having to burn my weekend. *sigh* I was counting on tomorrow being a sleep in late day which is why I'm still awake now. Instead, it has become a 24hours no sleep day. In fact, I'm supposed to have reported to camp 2 hours ago.

But enough of this! At least I enjoyed myself today. A few guys came over to my house early in the morning. Shoo-ed them off after awhile since there wasn't really anything to do. Then I headed over to the sa carnival. T'was a day of generiousity! I went there with zero coupons. But in less than 20minutes, I had met enough friends who were willing to share some with me. And I ended up having 20+ bucks worth of coupons. Plus, when I was hungry with only 3 bucks worth of coupons in my hands when I had just arrived, weijie was kind enough to top up the cash difference so I could get some pizza and a drink. Thanks so much girl=) Goggled at the world's tallest man and the world's tallest wrestler. Not because they are record holders but because they were stealing a puff in the air-conditioned hall with the ill-conceived view that no one was looking. So in blatant ignorance of the association-causation fallacy, smoke if you want to grow taller! Rushed home around 4 in time to meet my grandma and my youngest uncle's family who were visiting. Had dinner at a restaurant with them. Saw grace and she hasn't changed one bit since the last time I saw her a year ago. Then watched the Chingay parade. And that was my day, a good day. Just because it's different from my every day.

2005-02-15T21:30:00.000+08:00

I have so many things to say but I don't know where to begin.

Escaped with blue murder during the stand-by-bed inspection when the officer missed the glaring fact that my pillow lacked a pillowcase while he tried to spot dust behind my cupboard, on the planks supporting my bed and basically every corner of the room. Had he noticed that offending item on my bed, I would have to sign three extras and forgo my night off. Talk about a miracle.

Went to the gym with the other white horse in my unit. We were exchanging life stories while we lifted weights. He's a national lion dancer and really deserves to represent Singapore. Every morning, he wakes up earlier than everyone else to work out. During lunch, he works out again. At the end of the day, he goes to the gym and goes through this really long and tedious process of weight-lifting, stretching, cycling, kickboxing and other exercises. That is commitment. I never trained so hard back when I was in the national squad. I'm just in awe of him.

Then there's the recent realisation as to how lucky I am that I'm posted to a camp so near home allowing me to spend three hours at home every night off. My cousin just told me that he was posted to Changi Base and he lives just one hundred metres away from me?

Valentine's Day was over in a flash. Had duty so I couldn't take leave even if I wanted to. Found out that I suck in giving encouragement. This guy in my unit was putting on a tortured mask the whole day as he contemplated confessing his liking for a girl. He came to me in the toilet asking, "Am I handsome?" I gave what I thought was a diplomatic answer. "It's not important whether you are handsome or not. It's whether you can convince the girl whether you are handsome or not that's important." Zzzz....

Another guy in my unit has a penchance of sleeping in just his underwater. We were making sordid but true jokes saying that we could predict what his dreams were about. If the underwear was flat, he's having a dreamless night. If there's a tent, he's dreaming about girls. If the tent is lopsided, he's dreaming about guys....

2005-02-12T16:28:00.000+08:00

Seems like every moment is spent preparing to go out or actually going out. I haven't had time to go out with friends. Okay, actually I was supposed to meet some people in town today but overslept larrrh. Had to go back to camp on the third day of cny but most people had taken leave so we couldn't do many things. Had the usual physical stuff before I slept off the whole day. Am very glad I didn't take leave because it would have been such a waste of a perfect day for sleeping albeit pesky mosquitoes and flies. Had an early fall-out so I rushed home bent on continuing my disrupted siesta when my mum happily announced that we had a few more families to visit. Gasp. Oh the horror. As if I wasn't tired enough.

Fourth day of cny today and the visiting doesn't end. Am supposed to go out in an hour's time. My dream of soaking in air-con, sticking up my legs with a jug of lemon tea at my side and a good book in my hands...Poof! I'll have to admit though, that this year's cny has been more fun than the previous years. Maybe it's the growing-old part when you visit River Hongbao and suddenly realise you don't have a urge to pay outrageous prices for rollercoaster rides anymore. The rollercoaster ride had always been a key point of my visit to River Hongbao ever since eternity. This year, I was happy enough to just walk around looking for food to eat or rather deciding what to buy. Ended up buying everything I wanted. Haha..no surprises here.

The trouble with overachieving relatives is that when one member of the external family achieves something great, it's no longer noteworthly. When my uncle received the Public Service Star from President Nathan the last National Day, everybody just oohed and ahhed and took pictures. Then a picture was hung up on the wall, next to all the pictures of various members of the family clan getting plaques, awards or citations from illuminaries. Nothing new. Nothing special. It scares me that one day, the burden of continuing the series of photo frames will lie on me and my cousins. Already, I can imagine who will be the one to get another Public Service Star for the clan, and who will become the next bigshot towkay. I sadly conclude that my best chance of adding to that photo series will be to a take a photo with Lee Kuan Yew's wax figure at Madam Tussaud's. Oh wait, I already have that photo=P

Just found out my tennis ranking in Singapore. Dropped 50+ spots but am rather thankful that I have not dropped to three figure digits, but am pretty sure that come the end of the year, I'll be miles away from my personal high. Mile high club member? Okay..lousy pun but it just entered my mind for no reason. I'll like to be a mile high club member one day though, the club associated with airplanes, not the one talking about drops in tennis rankings.

Anyway so, I have to go out now. Shall spare my readers from more bad jokes till next time.

Twenty things you've always wanted to know about ME, but were afraid to ask!

2005-02-10T21:30:00.000+08:00

Twenty things you've always wanted to know about ME, but were afraid to ask!

1. Description?
I'm 174cm tall, ambidextrous, black eyes. I'm a capricorn born on Christmas eve and that makes me a very pragmatic person. Hahaha..actually I have no idea how pragmatism is linked to capricorns and my birth date.

2. Bank Account?
I have 5 digits in my bank account! Very low five digits though=( I make it a rule of thumb that my account is a one-way road untill university graduation. I have never withdrawn any money from my account and that helps me avoid spending.

3. Irritants?
I get very irritated when people do not spend enough attention on other people. It's fine with you can type and respond fast even when you are chatting to five people on messenger, but it's not funny when you end up ignoring friends to cater to near-strangers.

4. Can you whistle?
I can't whistle. I can make something like a screech, but that doesn't count. Not even a remote chance.

5. Were you ever mentioned in a local newspaper?
Haha..4 times so far I think? I use a pen name when I write to the Forum, and I've been interviewed twice, nothing major though. I was just one of the numbers they interviewed.

6. What are your weaknesses?
Caring too much about people.

7. Fashion?
Very very casual. I hardly ever shop for clothes and I have no patience shopping for clothes because I can never tell if a top is good or not.

8. Girlfriend?
Had a number. But those were my frivolous days.

9. Biggest splurge?
250 bucks on a tennis racket. I got it at an unbelievable discount though, it was around 600bucks usual price.

10. Frustations?
When I get used and when friends choose not to go out with me but they go out with other people.

11. Have you changed?
Quite alot. I'm too tired to get fired up these days. When people piss me off, I'm finding it easier to live and let be. I've become more attuned and sensitive to myself and more selfish in a good way.

12. What is a fashion victim?
*shrugs* I'm going to offend some people but I'll just shut up.

13. Marilyn Manson?
He's one deluded guy. But with the state the world is in right now, I'm not surprised. If not him, there'll be somebody else.

14. WPM?
Heh..I just went to take a test at www.typingtest.com. 91 words per minute with zero errors, but I was concentrating. So maybe around 80wpm in normal situations?

15. If you could be anyone in the world, who will you be?
Hmm..I'll try to answer with some thought because 'Myself! I'm unique' is way too boring for an answer. I thought of the Pope but that will mean being someone who is in poor health. So I'm going for the Dalai Lama. I mean, here is one of the world's clearest thinker and best debator who's been trained in the art of dialectic since young because the ability of reason is tested so rigorously in Buddhist tests. Plus, he's not some old stooge. He actually has a better sense of humour than most people. It'll be a hell of an experience.

16. Handphone maniac?
I used to sms alot but no longer. I'm just too lazy to reply smses so I have about one hundred unused smses each month.

17. If you were invisible for one day, what would you do?
Haha..I'll just do every guy's not-so-secret fantasy. You know..follow Jolin Tsai into the bathroom when she's about to take a bath...

18. 3 most important things in your life?
Happiness, peace of mind, food.

19. What are you afraid of?
I don't know actually. There are things that make me sad or apprehensive..but afraid is a different thing.

20. Two truths and a lie.
a) When I really like a girl, I'll never admit it. Rejection is something I cannot handle so that's the reason why I never made the first move in all my previous relationships.
b) I believe in doing the best I can, wherever, whenever.
c) I'm single.

2005-02-09T21:47:00.000+08:00

In between watching Kungfu Hustle, grabbing new year snack after snack, goggling at a lion dance troupe and a lion which pranced happily into my uncle's house after collecting a hongbao, shaking hand after hand spouting 'happy chinese new year', and playing mahjong, I found some time to take a nap. Sleep is important. Am pretty much dying from 3 steamboats in 2 days.

I've been walking and walking and walking yesterday and today. Crowds usually bring out the fuse in me but yesterday, while jostling in the human jam that became Chinatown, it dawned on me that it was actually fun. I mean..just letting yourself get swept along while admiring the new tacky items that come out every year in a perverse pleasure of some sort. One moment, I was at Sago Street heading for the Eu Tong Sen my mum used to bring me to get chinese herbs when I was young, the next, I was facing the direction of Tanjong Pagar and the old maxwell food centre. Ten minutes later after many turns and twists, I would be at Outram. When the crowd finally pushed me to Trengganu Street, I broke out of the crowd and just headed off towards Hong Lim Green. Then I walked, and walked. Lau Pa Sat. Raffles Place. Singapore River. Esplanade. Millenia Walk, Bugis. CHIJMES, the old Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts compound, Peace Centre, Plaza Singaporua, the Orchard Stretch. Then I went home. A very long walk. Very. Very. Enjoyable.

Ankle hurts really badly now. It's swelling up like a pufferfish. Will have to go see the military doctor when I go back to camp. Got my feet stepped on a couple of times at River Hongbao which didn't really help things but still...nax had to do the traditional new year things like soak in the spirit=) You know..chinese new year can be really fun. Christmas isn't the only period of the year where people get high-spirited.

Really. Really. Zonked out now.

2005-02-07T23:53:00.000+08:00

I was trekking to the main compound today evening to return the training plot keys when I heard crackling and felt something beneath my foot. I saw an egg and a head. I saw shells and wings. I had ended a life. Before I knew it, my eyes were watering. I was startled by the fact that I was crying. Why was I crying?

Then the floodlamps at the parade square in the horizen flashed on. The dying dawn light was strengthened by the cold, harsh artificial light. It was bright enough for me to make out more details of the remnants of the egg now. For the next half hour, I just sat there on the ground, not caring whether the soil was muddying my boots, that an itch was climbing its way up my pants. I just felt so sorry for the bird. For myself.

Maybe I'm not cut out for life in the army. Or maybe this is just another trial I have to work across whether by leaping, stumbling or just crawling. Every day is a mountain of stress. Having to prove myself to a bunch of guys who are cynical that I deserve their respect. Most of them are toughened lots, dumped together where they don't affect the other units. More tattoos than skin. More at home with a cigarette than a wafer stick. Every day is a battle of wills. My will against theirs. Will they do my bidding or will they feel I'm easy pie for the picking. Every day I set myself a target. This guy shall become my friend today, this guy tomorrow, this guy the day after. I joke, laugh, cajol, bribe, threaten. Sometimes it works, most times I have to try another day. Then I miss people who seem to have forgotten me. But I can't do anything about it.

Tomorrow onwards, I shall watch my steps. I shall try again. For tonight, I'll just sleep a sad man, thinking of a bird that had wings but never flew.

2005-02-06T21:45:00.000+08:00

When you've spent days in camp, you practically salivate when you see the first sign of civilisation. And when you are like me, having to go back to camp in an hour's time, you deliberately do things slowly, delay packing your bag and try to pretend things are as per normal. The army claims to produce thinking soldiers but that's just propaganda. I hate having to march from place to place, placating subordinates, sucking up to superiors, force-feeding myself tasteless army food and most of all, having no privacy at all. Everyone has given up grumbling about army because we are resigned to our fate. It's sheer emotional torture being stuck in a place where everybody wants to get out of. It is the ne plus ultra of tragedies that..oh never mind. Classified information.

Played abit of pool today. Now..break-clears aren't very common for me because pool isn't something I play alot. So bleak-clears of more of luck than skill for me. I was on a roll and at the fifth shot when I stood up and realised that all the remaining balls were clear shots with only the seventh ball being a bank shot. The fifth ball went in...then the sixth. And it was down to the seventh. At this point, the police raided the den. My challenger was underaged so the game had to be stopped. *insert expletives here* So that was it, I missed my chance to get a break-clear. Kind of sums up my day. Animadvertistine, ubicumque stes, fumum recta in faciem ferri?

2005-02-05T11:26:00.000+08:00

Yesterday afternoon after a hard tiring day in the field, I went back to the office to sort out the officers parade state. Then suddenly, some of my subordinates came into the office asking me, What is Forever? I felt so honoured then, that I've finally been accepted into the fold even though I came into the army one year later than them.

Then I got down to answering the question. It was obviously a test. I couldn't answer by saying forever meant eternity because that was just a change of vocab without truly addressing the question. So I used an analogy instead. "See this dot on my desk. Each dot represents a day. Count the number of dots and you will have forever. "

Round One passed.

Undeterred, the second question followed. What is Love?

I was stumped. There were so many things in my mind that I wanted to say. Philosophical incantations, ruthlessly systematic definitions, quotations from the Pope and the Dalai Lama, and of course, the famous extraction from the Corinthians. Or could I break down Love into its subparts, brotherly love, platonic love, spousal love and so on? But that didn't seem to answer the question. Was Love Grace? Could I use emotions to describe Love? Love is bittersweet. Or should I go in deep and say Love is intellectual intimacy and emotional support? It seems that eighteen years of existence has taught me nothing about love and my previous relationships were just a void of feelings. I never attempted to answer the question.

Round Two failed.

Life in the army is never boring. I was forced to learn Forever Fever dance moves and gyrate to Britney Spears's Baby One More Time. But. I'll rather be some other place than in the army. *mutters* Wakeboarding and underwater hockey session later=D Let's hope I don't agravate my sprained ankle...

2005-02-03T19:55:00.000+08:00

It's distressing. A guy shouldn't ask to share another guy's bed nor flash his crowning glory at him. Can someone give me some idea on how to handle a gay?

Everybody has problems

2005-02-01T21:27:00.000+08:00

The reason why regular interviews are so important is that without them, many problems may not come to light. The army has opened up my world. I was secured in a top primary school, a prestigious secondary school, and the most popular junior college. Everyone around me appeared to come from a rich family. Not so well to do folks like me were...something less common. When everyone spent money, I was the one watching my wallet. It's the reverse now. Practically all the guys in my unit has family problems of some sort. Cheating dads. Divorced parents. Estranged family members. Unmarried girlfriend who's 26 weeks pregnant and only 19 years old. Gambler father. For once, I'm not the only one... I'm lucky I guess. I was blessed with some semblance of determination that enabled me to train so hard in tennis and work my way out of poverty.
I'm angry. That I gave in to pain and bitterness when I was hurt so dearly. When more love and understanding was needed instead. I'm angry that I'm angry. I've been trying to redirect my excess energy into understanding Lugwitt Widgenstein. Then Nietszhe barges in with his bitter tones. Drama breaks out. Amusing how it is, that melancholy turns into anger into bitterness into pain into a self-concocted drama and then amusement at the stupidity of everything. You don't understand what I'm saying? I don't too=)

2005-01-30T16:38:00.000+08:00

I know getting fit is important, but surely not to the extent of travelling the entire length of the mainland to get to Big Splash for a dumb Commander's Run? The total travelling time was more than twice the time I spent running. To top it off, I had to be there by 7.45am which meant that I had to wake up at the unholy hour of 5.30am. Majestic planning and choice of location from the top I guess.

These days, I've been feeling robbed. Of my life by the army, of my feelings by camarillas, of my money by ticking taxi fare meters, of my energy by inunderstanding people. I'm slowly trying to reclaim myself. To squeeze out time to be with people I like, to do things I want to do, to eat proper food for once. Cookhouse food is horrendously fatless, tasteless, oil-less and the cooks seem pretty happy to sneer at us. So yesterday and today have been spent rediscovering food. I've been indulging in sinful food like chocholate tsunami cakes, rota pratas, bak kut teh, really big and juicy meatballs, chicken parisienne, lamb sausages simmered in beer, satay and chocholate ice-cream. To eat is to live. So to eat is to recapture my life. Food trips around Singapore, anyone?

And yesterday, I was approached by a man from Jagrove something modelling agency. Huh? Was wearing army PT attire, sporting a botak hairstyle, and he still could say I look "edgy". Rubbish, I bet he wants me to act in those wang wang advertisements. wang wang pao pao cha zhen de hui shen qi! *rolls eyes*

708days to ORD.

2005-01-25T21:11:00.000+08:00

Actually wrote this entry in my notebook so now I'm just transferring the contents.

I dislike writing about life in the army, but the fact remains that I am in the army and that I am a full-time soldier-slave. NSFs are not entitled to regular working hours under the Employment Act. So instead, I shall avoid entries like..we went night walk today. Instructor got us to pump 2000 today. I had to sign 3 extras today.

So here is my heavily censored entry.

How things work in the army.

Wednesday morning
I headed off to tennis practise. Whacked a few balls over the net for a short while (read few minutes). Took a sojourn with the rest at the nearby "pub". Too early to drink so we just lie around stealing naps. End of tennis session.

Wednesday afternoon
I get an email from a lieutenant. 'Siao eh..MAJ TAN wants a full length report on how our training is coming along and what our training is like. Don't tell him we eat snake one. See last year's report for the template.'

Thursday morning
I send off a draft of the report to the lieutenant. It basically says we are aiming for the championship and that we are training really hard. 3 click runs before every training session timed so we can check if anyone isn't pulling his weight. Then ball drills before the session ends.

Thursday afternoon
Reply from lieutenant. 'Not good enough. Tell him we run 5 click before every training session before engaging in strength training. What about tactical talks and training focus?'

Friday morning
The report is finally sent to the colonel. According to it, we run 5km before every training session. And then we engage in slope-climbing to build up our quadriceps and calves. Then we conduct sprints aimed at improving our acceleration and turning speed. Before the ACTUAL training starts, we hold a discussion to encourage ideas and everyone to get a sense of ownership for the team. Finally, drills begin with the aggressive gameplan of getting the ball to both sides of the court while firing off quick volleys whenever possible. We then hold short matches against ex-terror tennis players to facilitate sharing of experience and a whole load of bullshit.

The major is reportedly now pleased with things are going. He should be. It's not easy conjuring up activities we never did.

2005-01-23T22:00:00.000+08:00

The customary last minute post before I head back to camp!

I've been getting letters, letters, letters this past week. Nonsensical letters from universities spanning the gamut from US varsities and European colleges to just Singapore universities. A invitation to a conference to Washington and hobnob with lawmakers. A letter from the Asian Civilisation Musuems updating me on the latest events. A card from the blood bank urging me to donate blood again due to shortage of A+ blood. Letters from schools and alumni. A card from London from a long-distance acquaintance. A package from Microsoft. A stack of trial cards from a charity. Just a mountain of spam and sadly nothing noteworthly addressed from a human to me. And people wonder how I collect my stamps.

Actually...I don't bother to soak the letters I get in water for a day just to extract the stamps anymore. Far too cumbersome. I no longer collect stamps and the stamps I have are just the remnants of a collection I started building when I was in primary school. Still, it's a collection to be proud of. I have stamps that are decades old, stamps that are rare, stamps that are just beautiful and stamps from many different countries and currencies. I'll hang on to it as a reminder of my lost childhood. Fifty years from now, I'll be sitting somewhere, hands attached to a mug of beer (or exotic wine from French vineyards if I become rich) and flipping through the album while the bacchanalia goes on around me. And I'll wonder how the hell did I ever had the patience to begin a collection. Actually...I just went to NTUC to buy sets of stamps. Haha.

Last friday, when I had just booked out of camp, I wasn't looking to go home but rather for a place to chill out and destress. That was just after my routine duty and at that point of time, I had gone 36 hours without sleep. I wasn't tired and my brain needed some clearing. So I went to an old haunt and drank. The next moment, who did I see but a girl I hadn't seen for twelve years. Plucked up a conversation and it turns out that she's in the planning committee for ARCC and she had recognised me when I was conducting my interviews in the AR area. I didn't see her because she was tasked with organising the swimming carnival while I was in charge of another programme. Such a small world. Yet our paths had been so different from day one. I was plunged into another cycle of what ifs and my weekend was consumed with those questions.

Watched Elektra at Suntec yesterday evening with the company of two girls who were nice enough to treat me. Heh..thanks so much. It meant that I could afford to spend more money at Carrefour on food to lug into camp later.

Pillow. Check
Milo packets. Check
Radio. Check
Cereal boxes. Check
Cup noodles. Check
Tuna biscuits. Check
Garments. Check
Book. Check
Malaria pills. Check

2005-01-22T12:39:00.000+08:00

I only found out today that I own this stamp! This particular stamp is the very first official Tolkien stamp. It is part of a set of five (which I also own=P) that includes Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll, The Borrowers by Mary Norton, Phoenix and the Carpet by E Nesbit and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. Very very rare. My set of stamps is a few decades old and I have no idea how they landed in my hands. They are the crowning jewels of my stamp collection=)

2005-01-18T20:25:00.000+08:00

Learn to be lonely

Child of the wilderness
Born into emptiness
Learn to be lonely
Learn to find your way in darkness
Who will be there for you
Comfort and care for you
Learn to be lonely
Learn to be your one companion
Ever dreamed out in the world
There are arms to hold you?
You've always known
Your heart was on its own
So laugh in your loneliness
Child of the wilderness
Learn to be lonely
Learn how to love life that is lived alone
Learn to be lonely
Life can be lived
Life can be loved
Alone.

Whether by fate or a stroke of luck, I have a bunk all to myself. Every night after the day's work is done and the armskote has been cleared, I return to an empty bunk. It's dusty, obviously unused for a long time and not for the faint-hearted.

It's good and bad. I get some much-needed privacy after a day of mucking around with a bunch of guys. Plus I get plenty of thinking time. Rush to wait, wait to rush. Sums up what I do in the army. I've had time to think about my goals, my beliefs and convictions, my religion, my relationships and loved ones. I've time to read; am reading Hillary Clinton's Living History now and Chapman's Homer is next. And get this, I've been using whatever spare time I have to kill by practising to write with my left hand. Nax is now ambidextrous! I can write almost as well with my left hand as I do with my right hand.

But the silence in the middle of the night is palpable. It appears as if I am stuck in a cordon sanitaire except that I -know- the cordon is of a whole new nature all together. Like Ungoliant, it sucks and sucks until darkness itself is sucked in. Enveloped gets a whole new meaning altogether. There I am, vulnerable to any who might burst into the room. I haven't been sleeping well. In fact, I lapsed into uncomfortable sleep and wake up every three hours until dawn breaks and I give up the struggle to sleep. Oh the irony, that one month ago, I was struggling to stay awake in my bed at home that's incomparable to the bed I toss and turn on. Then I lie awake on the bed, eyes gaping at the ceiling, staring but seeing nothing for the mind is away wondering what other people would be doing at that very time. My mind aches.

Tonight, the cycle will repeat. And it will be worse. This time, my body aches too. 1500 pushups today. Not very fun.

2005-01-16T18:46:00.000+08:00

Okay, it's 5 different beds in the last 6 days as of Jan 13 actually; I forgot to count in my own bed in my house.

Friday was a half-day for me due to some military buffet and steamboat at Turf City. If Shark's Fin, Jumbo Tiger Prawns and New Orlean Oysters are anything to go by, we ordered like kings and ate like gluttons. No worries since the army was picking up the tab. Headed off to Sunset way to attend Clara's birthday party after the dinner. Left after the cake was cut though as I didn't like the idea of physically wasting myself when I should have been at home resting.

Saturday wasn't much of a rest for me either. Met some guys, had a cuppa and a chat then we went home. After dinner, I went out again to do some shopping. Gifts to get, clothes to buy, food to hoard. Lord is aggravating!

And then Sunday, today, I went to the airport for lunch at Swensons with Beanie. Food was okay, the fried crayfish was interesting, the chicken a tad too tough, and the fish too little. A culinery couch expert like me has exacting standards. We went to the mph sale at expo after that. Bought a couple of books and now I'm home waiting for the Tiger Cup final to begin. Am severely displeased because I couldn't get tickets to the match. Stupid NS commitments. Okay, now the match is starting.

2005-01-13T21:23:00.000+08:00

Am rushing this entry because I need to pack up and go back to camp soon. Army life is stressful to say the least. Physical training is still okay. 5km runs are nothing when you are used to running more than that. Besides, I'm conditioning pretty fast. It's the paperwork that I'm banging my head against the wall for. Not too surprisingly, the higher up you progress in ranks, the more paperwork you do. I've been allocated this guy, YS,who supposed to guide me through the paperwork till I get the hang of things. Problem is, the first day I stepped in, a bunch of guys took me aside to warn me against YS. Apparantly, YS has a reputation of currying favour and blowing his top for the purpose of making people look stupid. I can see why now.

Anyhow, I've slept in 4 different beds in the past 6 days due to duties and unit transfers. But I like to tell people that I'm a Don Juan who wakes up every morning in a different girl's bed=)

2005-01-10T20:53:00.000+08:00

Depressed. Maybe that's not the word. What word would be good to describe the general heaviness residing in my gut? Encumbered? Jaded?
The good news is I've been promoted. The better news is I can now book out of camp every weekend while everyone else slugs it out at Tekong. The best news is I've been transfered to Terror. Or rather..'TERROR!!!'

Now for the bad news. I feel so alone. Because my promotion is way ahead of the rest of my batch, I'm the youngest guy in terror and needless to say, the only one from my batch posted there for some reason. Everybody there knows everybody else and I'm still trying to fit in. The first person I saw from my unit when I stepped into the building was a Colonel. A colonel is the rank just below a Brigadier-General and our Prime Minister was known as BG Lee before he became PM Lee just in case you are wondering. The next guy I saw was a major. And then I saw a SAF Legend. Yes, you got it, my rank is nowhere near theirs and I am so gonna be makaned for dinner by them. I really need someone to pour out my frustrations. But it's just so difficult. There's not much time to access my handphone and I have to wait till I get home on the weekends or book out on my nights off. I've adapted to military life but I so hate it. There's so much of meaningless waiting and so little brain cells used up. The physical training is not as much a torture as it was reputed to be but what really shakes me is the mental torture. The monotony of army life. The boring routine. Chinese food everyday. And the seperation from my loved ones. It's not really the distance nor the time apart that I'm talking about. It's the facade that I as my rank and a military personnel must put up. No more am I nax, I am soldier Y X Liang. I have to stay my tongue because so much restricted and classified information passes through my hands everyday. That is the seperation from my loved ones that I am talking about. The rest of the guys do not understand what I'm going through because all of them are still recruits. Neither can I turn to my family for they just seem to give me more stress. The rest of my friends seem more concerned with their own lifes. This afternoon, when I stepped out of the gate back into civilisation, I felt sick to the core of my stomach for it was only then that I realised how unsuitable the army is for me. But I also felt euphoria. For just this night alone, I no longer have to sleep on a foreign bed. For there was no one who wanted to share my disgust and euphoria. Thus it was that I crashed back to Earth.

When they say the army is for people who are stupid. They mean it. You don't need intelligence to get a high rank in the army. You just need to be able to wayang and pretend you are interested in military life. On my first day, they interviewed me and told me that based on my past record, I was likely to be posted to OCS. I told them no way and that I would appeal if they posted me to OCS. Honestly speaking, people who go to OCS are people who have fragile egos. The fallacy of Hasty Generalisation? I say not! Just go out and see for yourself. What's the big deal about ranks? The smart people just want to complete their NS commitment and get the hell out of the army. Me? Oh, I'm going to the army because there's this really pretty civilian lady who's working in my unit. She looks like Jiao from the 7pm show on channel 8. Zheng Shi Mei. *grins*

I wonder how my section mates in Tekong are doing now. Stick 10 guys together 24hours a day, 7 days a week and you get a very close-knit bunch of guys. But you also get a boiling witch's cauldron of different personalities. And you know, when the ingredients react and mix, they bubble up and spill out. Similarly, there's been a few minor arguments and conflicts though they were always settled by the end of the day and the lewd jokes and pranks would resume.

Today I'll introduce five of my section mates. Next week, the last four when I book out from camp again.

Triple H
Otherwise known as Huang Hai Han. He is as skinny as Triple H is muscular. I'm talking about Triple H the WWF wrestler here. Quiet chap who's warming up. Enjoys sitting at the windows. My barrack faces the sea and the mainland so the view at night is breathtaking. You'll see the twinkling lights from the mainland, the ships in the horizon and the glittering sea.

Two Minute Haresh
Otherwise known as Haresh. The idiot who on our first day in Tekong, suddenly rushed into the room saying..."Shit! Two minutes! Two minutes! Bring waterbottle" So we rushed out into the corridor to get a good view and realised that the platoon was already downstairs all lined up and my section was still up on the fifth floor. Down the stairs we dashed and we joined the platoon. A few seconds later, we realised we didn't know anybody from the platoon. The platoon in question was platoon 2, while we were from platoon 4. So up the stairs we went again whereupon we collapsed laughing on the chairs and mimicking Haresh's now famous "Two minutes! Two minutes!" These days, we give him two minutes to sweep and mop the floor of our room.

Arjan Robben
Otherwise known as Arun Rooban. As good in rubbing his now-botak head as arjan robben the soccer player is at in making mazy runs down the wings. Likes a mysterious girl but refuses to show us her picture.

Lance
The life of the platoon. Talks the most and admits he refuses to let other people talk because he wants to be the one talking. Constantly asking the commander for smoking breaks and constantly being disappointed. Claims that he lost his virginity back in secondary one and has since had numerous sex partners. His best sex experience was in secondary three. I refuse to go into details here. However, his claims and views are his and his only, and I do not take responsibility if they turn out to be untrue.

Ah Mao
Otherwise known as Nityanand or just Nity. This fat guy eats three times lesser than me and always shoves half the food on his plate onto my plate. Carries a potbelly and is incredibly hairy. Hence his nickname.

That's it I guess. I do have army stories to tell but I'm not aiming to break the world record of world's longest entry so wait till next time. I booked out for just one night and I have to be back in camp by 7.15am tomorrow. But I'll have my night off tomorrow so maybe I'll sneak a couple of hours to come home again. That's white horse treatment for you. I dread going back to camp and sleeping on an alien bed again for the next 5 days again though=( I miss some people...

2005-01-02T20:20:00.000+08:00

Tomorrow! I'll be heading off to the army! And I don't know when I'll be updating again, when I collect my A lvl results I guess. So goodbye for now.

The Road goes ever on and on
down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
and I must follow, if I can.

2005-01-01T22:07:00.000+08:00

I'm glad. It's a new year and a chance to start things anew. I've screwed up too far many things in this year. I'm constantly tormented by 'what if's but 2005 is a road I hope to take to set things right.

To you and you and you and you, I wished I could have said more and I wished I had the chance to. Now that the army calls me, I don't know what will happen to this chasm. And when I'm out, everyone will be busy again, with school, university, work. And unfulfilled promises made to me will remain just that because you'll all be too busy and in no mood to go out again. Or we may no longer be as carefree as this holiday was. And yet it'll bring me no joy in saying "I told you so."

To you who has been my best pal for awhile now, it was great seeing you again yesterday. Just playing xbox and playstation2 and grousing about the lack of a steamboat that was promised to us transported me back to the days we sat beside each other in school and irritated the hell out of each other. Many were the black faces then. Then when we went delifrance and had our supper, the nonsensical chat we had reminded me about your best trait. That you were accepting, serious at the right time, yet un-serious most of the time. We know each other too well and that comforts me in many ways more than one.

Last year's resolution went better than I had hoped for. This year, it'll be for myself. That I may learn to accept and love things even in the form of which I may not like.

Nax has left 2004.

2004-12-31T09:46:00.000+08:00

I have to go out now! But wait, must update blog first.

I wonder what plans a higher being if he existed could possibly have for the victims of the tsunami. It's unnerving to know that the three countries closest to us has been struck by the waves and floods but we escaped untouched. It's sad when you hear stories of friends of friends who lost their house which they had used years of savings to build. We are blessed that we are geographically protected by the very countries that were affected, and only just, but the danger strikes too close to home. In one day, more lifes were snuffed out than the total number of lifes lost in the Iraq war. It's beyond all comprehension. =(

Snow White Loses 3 Dwarves Over Cost-Cutting

BERLIN (Reuters) - Snow White had to make do with just four dwarves rather than the usual seven due to cost-cutting at a theater in the eastern German town of Stendal, the Hannoversche Allgemeine Zeitung newspaper reported.
The Altmark Stendal theater said it could afford only six actors for its Christmas rendition of "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves," which led to protests from theater-goers from the nearby western city of Hanover who wanted to see seven dwarves.
The theater said it had attached two puppets in dwarf outfits to a background wall to give the production six dwarves. The actor playing the prince was supposed to double as the seventh dwarf but only made one brief appearance on stage.
"The seventh dwarf wasn't on stage the whole time because he was in stuck down in the mine working overtime," theater spokeswoman Susanne Kreuzer told the newspaper.

I'm off! For a day of playstation, xbox, walking around, steamboat, fun and drunken revelry with old friends...

2004-12-27T22:15:00.000+08:00

When I was again sinking and the throbbing pain behind my eyes threatened to overcome me. I read this and it bought me a smile. Fleeting but very much treasured.

O! Wanderers in the shadowed land
despair not! For though dark they stand,
all woods there be must end at last,
and see the open sun go past:
the setting sun, the rising sun,
the day’s end, or the day begun.
For east or west all woods must fail . . .

2004-12-24T22:55:00.000+08:00

I hope that when some of you celebrate Jesus's birthday later, you'll remember who's birthday you didn't bother to celebrate. That you'll remember that on your birthday, I thought it worth my while because I thought you people were worth it. Little would I know that I, who had wanted to celebrate my birthday with you two, would have been chased off after a lunch. So very thoughtful. Little would I know that none of you had wanted to go for the lunch in the first place. Little would I know asking you out for a movie would border on begging. Little would I know that my status was so low in your eyes. I had an invitation to watch a movie with some of my friends but I gave it up. Had I known that you wished you were at home rotting, I would have taken the money and gone to equinox at swissotel and treated myself to a 100bucks dinner. Regrets...regrets.

I wanted so much to have seperate presents for christmas and my birthday. Some remembered, some didn't. Some honestly told me that they didn't have money to get two seperate presents and I loved them for being so honest. They cared enough to tell the truth and I appreciated it. Some...shared a present and still had the guts to call it a christmas AND birthday present. I liked it, I liked it alot and I'll use it until godknowswhen. But my heart tells me that you people still owe me a present. Petty? I think not, I told you so many times, don't combine my present. It's just insincere. It's telling me you couldnt be bothered to search for two different gifts. Ah..the sour taste in my mouth now. Regrets...regrets.

It's been drummed into me time and again to never pour good money after bad money in the stock market. But the arena this time isn't the market. Should I still pour good money after bad?
Merry christmas. Did any of you realise there's a really beautiful full moon from our corner of the earth tonight?=)