29 April [Sentimentality]

Oh wow, I’m back?

You know, given the popularity of Facebook and Twitter, I wonder if anybody still blogs to journalize their lives anymore. It really shows that fads pass with so much haste, and the trends we are devoting so much of our time to will one day seem as antiquated Friendster. Still, this blog has too much of me for me to just give it up like that.

Maybe one day it will be forgotten but not now.

At least not right now.

As with today’s theme of sentimentality, most people will surely have a few things from eons ago, which they have been hoarding since they were teething on pacifiers. Their first wallets. First phones. Notes or ornamental gifts from friends in the past; things that no longer (or had never) serve any practical use in their present phase of life.

Yeah, I'm referring to that fucking crappy argyle sweater you got from your 16th birthday

Somehow I can never bring myself to throw these things away. They are useless. They are junk. They are a quarter as old as I am. They take up space and slowly gather dust bunnies that gives me bouts of sneezing fits. They were with me almost 24/7. They were precious. They were the embodiment of my past. They bring back memories. They were necessities.

They are mine.

Even though they are inanimate, non-living heartless things, there will always be this bond with the things that had been with you- a strange attachment and affinity. I still have the first few cellphones I have ever had- the bulky green Nokia phone with LED backlight or that first color Nokia phone with the awesome snake game.

Must... Get... Foooood

They are now not functioning anymore, but they remind me of the times and trials I faced with them tucked snug in my pockets, and the childish prank calls I have made on them. They are my friends, my companion, my family and the thought of tossing them away strikes a chord and elicit a deep sense of guilt, of betrayal.

It’s like I’m throwing my past away.

NUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Today, I realized how much my iPhone has aged. It’s once smooth and polished surface is now tainted with wrinkles of scratches and blotches of dead pixels. The intuitive touchscreen is slowly becoming unresponsive to the soft caresses from my thumbs. It just isn’t what it used to be. I now have to make a decision- to immortalize it along with the rest of the Nokias in some dusty corner, or to let it go and reclaim as much return (or as little) as it is worth after depreciation.

Which hopefully is a lot more than zero.

True, the iPhone isn’t as classic as the Nokia 3350, but it is my first smartphone and we all know that our firsts always stay in our hearts with tenacity. Despite all the times I had wanted to bury it alive for all the troubles it had brought me, it encapsulates 3 years worth of memories and such things aren’t easy to ditch.

Great, now I’m reminded of that tramp stamp I have had for years. Damn, I really need to get rid of it.

28 January [Here We Goooo]

Wooohoo! First post of 2012.

I haven’t been writing for quite a bit and as the entry below has kinda hinted, it’s because I’ve been conscripted. Sure, I mean I have some (little) time in there, but there really isn’t much time to defrag my thoughts. Ah heck, it’s mostly because I’m a lazy fuck.

Oh look, a vulgarity.

Anyhow, the reason I’m checking back in is to sort of occasionally document and compartmentalize a particular section of my life, and because I’m waiting for some videos to load. In here, you really learn to maximize time by conducting simultaneous activities all in a time frame. It’s like you gotta brush your teeth while you are texting and sitting at the toilet bowl. Also, there seems to be an alarming declination of my English standard.

So this can be considered as an English revision exercise.

2 weeks has passed since my time in the new training school and the activities conducted were mostly the comfy administrative whatnots and loads of lectures. A real test of mental capacity, that one. Still, compared to what is to come, I’m not complaining. I mean, my bunkmates and I prone on our beds every night playing pokemon like some 8 years old kids.

8 years old slave kids by day, 8 years old pokemon master by night.

Compared to the previous training institute, we definitely have more freedom. We get more time to do our own stuff and gained autonomy in deciding when things are to be done as long as they are completed on time. It’s like we are remotely human. But perhaps we are getting ahead of ourselves. On the downside, the food is incredibly repulsive. Every time I’m done with my earthly businesses in the toilet, I rack my brains trying to figure out what I had for the previous meal. Then I just gave up all together since what goes out does not differ significantly from what usually goes in.

But now I can finish a meal in 5 minutes! Woohoo! Maximum Efficiency achievement unlocked.

Also, in about 6 weeks time, the posting for my next phase in training will be released. Hopefully I can get into a wondrous place with less physicals and more admin time and relaxation. Maybe as an admin or logistics or transport specialist.

Or maybe,

Provost. Pride, Discipline, Honor.

HI MILITARY INTELLIGENCE CREWS, ARE YOU STALKING ME.

 

26 November [I'm Home]

It’s about 5.40am and here I am blogging like some rabid writer on caffeine high. Perhaps it was the macchiato from yesterday night.

Either way, I’m pretty sure it’s because my body that has been tuned to wake up at this god forsaken hour. For the past 16 days, this slab of muscle, bones and fats have been forced to start revving at about 5.15am and do physicals right about this time. Every dawn, a part of the soul withers and dies when the chorus of alarm blares echoes from various beds in the bunk.

[Note: I try to leave out specific words to avoid detection via keyword searches by a particular organization. But i'm sure they have other ways to track if they intend to. So here's also a hi to them in advance)

So this dawn had been a real breather for the body and soul. Strangely, as I look around my room now, which is dimly lit by the dispersed streetlights cascading in from the window, it looks foreign but feels calming.

Actually, everything not from that offshore island feels different. Typing on the iPhone I had used for months seems strange and the daily rituals I had been carrying out for years feel a tad bit alien. The body remembers the sequential process but the mind is slightly muddled. It’s like I’m not as grounded to home anymore.

Which is probably why I had a flurry of emotions when I woke up this morning and remembered that my time home is now only temporary. Initially, the past 16 days just felt like an extended dream which did not happen. But the dull ache all over my body gently advises otherwise and my heart just sank at that thought.

Maybe after that many days of conditioning, my mind has registered that island place as the new home and my home here in bedok, a hotel. In a way that’s good since it demonstrates the body’s adaptability, but it is also kinda sad. I don’t want all the regimental stuff to be the focus of my life; I rather it just be a fraction of it.

Like, I wanna have a core life and every passing chapter remains as such and doesn’t define what I am and what I do at any point of time. I don’t think I’m making much sense, but it’s kinda like how I don’t want my career to be the main focus of my life in the future, with other factors (family, fun and social activities etc) accommodating to it.

Right now I guess it’s hard, since I have to do what i got to do for about 85%-90% of my time for 2 years. Adaptability will probably ensure that it’s a tunnel vision and blurs everything else into the wayside. But if it helps me survive and overcome, I’m not complaining (much)

Woah, too much whining and too little information.

Basically, we are awake from about 5.15am-10.45pm with random activities interspersed. Based on limited experience, there are usually 3 or 4 key physical activities daily with inserts of 20mins of meal time or negligible rest time. So basically, most of us hate mornings and look forward to the time after dinner, when the activities planned are usually lighter. The thing is, you will stop caring about such things after a while and just go with the motion. Things pass slightly easier when you don’t think about it and just follow the motion. I guess this is what most of my friends have been trying to tell me.

Look! Time passes so fast here it’s almost impossible. I’ve been writing for so long and it’s wasting precious down time. Actually, everything feels like a waste of time now.

I need some divine intervention.

28 September [Dread and Fear]

Trời ơi!

There is a shy more than a month before I’m whisked off to the land of destitute (sidenote: iPhone autocorrect tried ‘designers’. I LOL-ed) and the unease in the deep crevices of my sternum is threatening to boil over.

Sometimes my friends ask “Why the fear?”

I thought about it.

And realized that there is no fear, as much as there is dread. Lots and lots of dread; enough to drown a drown a grown man. Dread and fear are arguably similar but they are intrinsically different.

When experiencing either of the two, the body responds and reacts in indistinguishable ways. Both dread and fear induce a similar state of unease, nervousness, palpitations and a full bounding pulse. There is also an intense rejection towards the source of distress. The supposedly warm fluttering butterflies in your stomach when you are in love is as to the slithering and biting snake when you are in dread, or fear.

However, despite the uncanny similarities in the bodily responses, fear and dread are fundamentally different.

Fear is instinctual, it exists because it is a mechanism for the preservation or sustenance of life. It is the recurring rejection of a source the subject has perceived to be detrimental, and will likely result in real harm or death. Fears, or phobias, of particular sources include Nyctophobia, the fear the dark and Claustrophobia, the fear of confined spaces. For example, the fear of darkness arise because the subject fears that they could be potentially hurt by whatever (if any) that lurks in the dark. Similar, claustrophobics fear that in confined spaces, they could not escape when faced with danger. The source of fear maybe not be exactly logically for others simply because fear is emotional. Fear of a matter could be acquired by past experiences or external acquisition. It does not necessarily disappear even after the subject confronts their fear (i.e locking a claustrophobic in the small closet does not help overcome the fear).

Conversely, dread is the anxiety or apprehension of a source in the future. Dread arises when the subject is compelled to face something unpleasant that is to come. Unlike fear, dread is not spontaneous nor is it fleeting. It is the worry over a given period of time until which the subject overcomes the source of distress. It concerned itself less with the possibly of death, but rather having to do what the heart and/or mind does not want to. To illustrate, a student who did not attend classes regularly might dread the science test next Tuesday. A subject might also dread a date with someone they don’t fancy. Dread is not acquired, it simply snowballs as the date draws closer and dissipates once it is conquered (I.e. Dread of science test disappears once it is over).

Putting it together: A subject who was attacked by a feral dog could have a fear of canines and dread the day their school is going to a dog farm.

To overcome fear, one has to be convinced that the source is unlikely to cause harm (perhaps, again)

To overcome dread, the subject has to decide if they could manage what can be changed, and change it, or to accept the inevitable.

18 August [It's actually all the same]

Yahoo! Weather apparently has a tendency of lying, or under-exaggerating. It proudly declared that the temperature today is about 90 °F , which is about 32 °C for you, when it’s obviously feels about a baking 98 °C (37 °C). In case you were wondering, I like using Fahrenheit because it gives the impression that it’s a lot hotter than it is (which is already insanely hot already as it is). Either way, it made me feel strangely oppressed while I was trudging about minding my own business and running errands. It’s likely that the people around felt it too, because they all looked all sultry and bothered, and not in the I wanna throw myself at you kinda way.

Now that was a disturbing thought.

WET T-SHIRT CONTEST!

And people ask why others prefer to stay indoors.

Maybe it was the blistering weather or maybe it was me, but while running the said errand, my thoughts kept going back to a newfound/rediscovered(?) epiphany- The stages in a romantic and platonic relationships aren’t all that different after all. (I would probably make a chart like Cracked.com does, but I’m not as dedicated, or as skilled.):

**Oh! before I continue, I must mention that I’ve come to a decision that it is due to the blistering weather, that my consciousness decided to retreat up into the safe cool shelter underneath my skull and huddle up with the Brain**

Brain Helmet!

Really, in the most general sense, a romantic relationship can be classified into Committed (madly in love, roses rainbows and marshmallows etc) and Uncommitted (rebound, friends with benefits, just getting together without knowing why etc). It’s also applicable to platonic friendship. Some friends are so unbelievably amazing (Committed), they go out of their way for you at their inconvenience. They are the first people you declare your latest sweetheart, irrational fancies, recent discoveries and deep rooted fetishes to and they are the people who hold your interest as their own. They notice your weird quirks and peeves, as you do theirs. As time goes by, the members in this relationship positively influences each other and develops this unique homogeneity.  You feel safe, empowered, secure and complete in the relationship.

Awww widdle baby safe and warm

On the flip side, there are other (Uncommitted) friendships which have no real substance even after years of sustenance, most likely birthed from individual convenience, and is easily formed and equally disposable to members. The main symptom of such a relationship is (what I) aptly named Vampirism- You usually feel fear, or dread, because every interaction feels like a judgement sessions. Members update each other on their lives and aspirations and watch each other barrage or murder them in cold blood. It’s the platonic equivalent of an abusive marriage. The possible explanations for the continued existence of such a blasphemy of a relationship is that the members are too used to it it has became a needle bed of a twisted comfort zone, or that the parties are helpless and unable to disentangle themselves, but it’s highly plausible that they are purely masochistic.

I love cat memes!

Also, the emotional progression is identical:

1. Getting to know you Part I (or discovering basic stats, or what kind of lover you are):
At this initial stage, you’re muddling along in the dark in your relationship, trying to discover the other party’s personality as a friend, or lover. You gain basic stats (family size, interests, pets, previous relationships blah blah boring stuff) and decries some of their strengths which appeals to you (humorous, deep thinker, sensitive, experienced etc.)

2. Honeymooon period begins
Most  people won’t think of it this way, but Honeymoon period is also prevalent in a friendship. Suddenly you guys start hanging out and texting increasingly often, trading jibes, banters and sharing inside jokes (probably on another poor sod). You probably see each other 1000 times a week. Obviously, in a romantic relationships it goes far more than that- first base, second base and all other baseball jokes.  Oh life is great! I have found my best friend/ideal lover! We will be this way forever! XOXO (included in romance only. XOXO sold separately but not recommended in platonic friendships. That’ll just be weird)

3. Getting to know you, Part II (discovering underlying stats)
This stage is inevitable but it doesn’t get easier. At this stage you find out more about your friend/lover, certain facts or behaviors that gets to you, like the gentle caress of a mosquito bite.  It could be that you found out that your new buddy or spit-sharer has a tendency to fart in your face. Like what the hell? You’re not even that close yet. These behaviors are moderately acceptable or gets tolerable as the relationship develops. In most discussion you end up with: That’s how he/she is.

4. End of honeymoon. Booyah…?
Strangely, you get used to each other and the urge to meet 30hours a day bubbles down to a slow simmer. Perhaps the novelty is over, or mayhaps the relationship has reached a deadlock.  The whole process is just.. inert and static, without throwing in more reactants into the equation.

5. Getting to know you, Part III  
This stage is totally optional, depending on who they are, who you are, and how much you care about the other person. At this stage, certain skeletons are dredged from deep within the metaphorical (or more morbidly, literal) closet. You find out through the grapevine (or through your astute Sherlock observational and deduction skills) that their family has a weird room in the basement with chains, saws and faded crimson tint, or that they are have a peculiar obsessive interest in hair (not that there is anything legally wrong with that), or that you’re their 3426th lover. It really depends on what kind of quirks they have and how tolerant you are, and your threshold on self control before you freak and bolt. If you wisely have freaked and bolted, continue with point 6, otherwise, skip to point  7

6. No more relationship. Call the cops and block them on Facebook and cellphone. 

7. Rediscovering you
If you’re at this point, we assume that you are a great person, and that you have decided that the deep secret is nothing compared to the awesome (br0/sis/ro)mance you have going between you. Congratulations, there is deeper mutual trust and camaraderie; the relationship has now leveled up and you are ready to learn a new ability- rediscovering. Given that you’re in on a deep secret that most people aren’t, the knowledge will shed new light and perspective on things which have happened in the past, and you now have a fundamental understanding on the motivation and reasoning behind some of their decisions which you have previous assumed was completely and stupidly random. With the new perception, you either (a) gets turned off beyond words (take one step back to point 6) or (b) have a deeper respect for the person and then it’s happily ever after (actually no it isn’t, but I’m rushing off so I’m just ending it here.)

**Author’s note: This post has been done is utter jest (and under complete mind cloudiness -from the terrible weather) I understand that relationship is not a linear progression, but rather a pervasive network of where process based on the collective consequences of choices and decisions.

6 August

Right now I’m hunched over my relatively spacious desk, dividing attention among several things I’m working on and there are a few guys singing at a celebration of some sort, over at this community center near where I am living. My train of thoughts finds it quite distracting- not in a Oh look! Pretty girl, nice legs! kind of way.

Seriously how can anyone get any work (or bumming around) done like this?

-MY GOD STOP SINGING ALREADY!-

Okay god. I have already forgotten what I wanted to write about and the commotion is making me insanely angsty.

Bye.

8 June [Life, Dreams and Regrets]

I’m probably telepathic. I can almost hear the scoffs and the sound of eyeballs rolling at the topic of this post.

He’s only, what, not even a quarter of a century old. What regrets could he possibly have. Fuck, what does he even know about regrets.

Or thereabouts.

If you are one of the (predictable or cynical, take your pick) few as illustrated above, you can’t be more right. I know about regrets as much as I’m well versed in the Shakespeare. Chances are, neither do you. So go read up on Othello and other ‘to be or not to be’s.

What gives? You ask. Well, have you ever woke up one morning feeling as awesome as an energizer rabbit, ready to fuck the hell out of all the lemons the world dares to throw in your direction? You feel so psyched that you don’t just make lemonades; the sheer force of your badassery mutates the shit out of the lemon like radiation did to Johnny Storm. You then casually toss the bright yellow, flame engulfed ball of citrus right back at the universe.

and coolly strides away from the scene after flipping the world off

Well, other times you wake up feeling like this:

This, just less cute.

It’s these mornings when you suddenly jolt from sleep, feeling utterly crappy when you reflect on your life and how much (little) you have accomplished. The comfort of your bed seems to be mocking you, like that cold cold shower which ensues. Wait. Are those water all over your droopy facade? Or are those your wimpy tears? Okay, I exaggerate but you must admit you like the melodramatic effect.

Though, unfortunately, the part where you reflect on how little you have accomplished is as true as it gets.

Then I realize, actually I have no real regrets.

Sure, I wished I hadn’t bought that piece of shitty LG laptop from Harvey Norman; and I wished I had agreed to go to that party last month. But these are not really regrets, aren’t they? When we say regrets, we usually refer to those crucial, life altering decisions which make a difference. Okay, maybe if I were to put it that way, one of my regrets was my failure to rescue a dog which was run down on the streets. It might not have been monumental, but it’s not as trite as a poor purchase decision or a fashion faux pas which may or may not have led to a socially awkward situation.

Source: College Humor

And then some of you will go, ‘I may not have very significant regrets. But I have dreams. Lofty dreams!’

Quick survey. What are some of your dreams?

Huge houses? Loving family? Enough dollar bills to wipe your sniffles with? Be the next top model? Have your own fashion label? Be an international celebrity? Maybe join the pro soccer team? Top of your career ladder?

I ish wanna be besh pilot!

If you’re like anybody else, you’ll probably want to have more than two of the above, and very few of us are as noble as to have dreams and aspirations like, ‘ I wanna find the cure for HIV and cancer!’,’ I wanna be the next Mother Theresa’, ‘ I wanna make world peace a reality’. Okay, the last one will probably be (pretentiously) true if you’re running for a pageant.

There is also a chance that you might not even have a concrete dream- a dream that you’re actually working towards. It’s not really that pressing isn’t it? To have a dream at this age, since we are so young? Oh, these excuses are as common as eye shits and are lies we tell ourselves to coax our spirits. And then we remember the accomplishments some people our age have already bagged.

Dr Seus: This monkey has been on the moon. What 'bout you!

I’m not saying all the other non-grandiose dreams are trivial and unimportant. Dreams and aspirations are all important because they keep us going. Simple dreams are still dreams and shouldn’t be undermined. It is the lack of aspiration that sucks. The point is, just because our dreams doesn’t involve saving thousands of lives, doesn’t mean it is not worthy to be an aspiration or a dream.

No moderately sane people would wake up one morning and think, ‘I’m going to make human flight possible by inventing a serum which gives people wings!” [Author's note: Not paid by Redbull for promotional slogan. However commission is welcome.]

Most lofty dreams stem from an equally compelling occurance, which inexplicably have an unusually powerful effect on the said aspirator. Perhaps maybe his fiancée’s plane was hijacked and she was casually tossed out of the plane mid-flight at 10000 feet above ground. The resulting trauma was so severe he felt compelled to equip every single human being with wings so that such tragedy does not ever occur again.

However, shit falling from the sky is now going to be a serious socio-cultural issue

Really, not many of us (and hopefully so) will ever have such magnitudinal incident that can awaken our internal lofty-aspiration generator.

So, instead of being dejected at having your dreams call trite. Fuck ‘em. Your dreams are yours and no one can judge it, not even if your life long dream involves swallowing 1000 sausages in under 5 minutes. It’s still respectable (also fatal) dream. I mean, hell, if you think it’s gonna give you a sense of pride and accomplishment after successful completion, do it.

I think I might have ADD, I have totally deviated from my original intent of this post but it’s still something.