[A.Z.] Everybody Hurts

Increasingly, I am starting to find that I no longer have anyone with whom I can share what I'm really thinking, deep down inside. It's like, there seems to be no way I can talk with anyone I used to know anymore. I could try, perhaps, but it seems like all that I would do is to piss off people whatever I say or do. Everytime I try to keep in touch with my past, it's not just failure I encounter. No. It's a vicious backlash that breaks what is left of my heart even more with each minute. I don't know why this is so, but......I don't know. I just don't know. Have I really become so detestable a person?

You know what, I give up. There's no point in trying to communicate with my past anymore. It has all but devolved into a web of lies, a dreamscape of memories that might as well have never been. I never was the person I thought I was. I never knew the people I thought I knew. All that happened was but a dream seen through a haze, a chain of events that probably didn't exist. And the only reason I know that any of those people I used to call "friends" are lost in the mists of time, and there's no telling how I ever got to know them. Or even thought of them as fondly as I did, for that matter.

What I am seeing now is but a pale reflection of the people I remember in my dreams, all world-weary people who are, in actuality, very different from what I thought I knew. Yes, N......it seems like I don't really know you anymore. I don't even know what to say to you. For some reason, you've become far different from what I used to know, and I'm not so sure you're the same person I liked to call 'sis' so much anymore.

I don't know, I'm so confused.

Yes, Jess. I no longer know what you're even thinking anymore. Not that to say that I believed I knew anything about what you were thinking before, but this time......this time you're just out of my orbit. Everything I say, everything I do, it feels like you would take offence to it, no matter what it is. Actually, come to think about it.......is that really so great a change from what I knew before? No matter. What I do know is that, I feel like I've let you down too severely, and well. I guess I should forget that you even existed, and save you and me so much grief from so much misunderstanding.

So many things I wish I could change.

And so it is that I depart a dreamlike past that might never have been, to a present of no hope and endless toil in the soul-destroying drudgery of National Service, and perhaps a near future of burying the person that I was. Or rather, the person I thought I was. Time flows on to a year of little hope, away from a dreamy past that, though pleasant, proves transient & ethereal at the end, without substance, without meaning. I have almost no more ties left to that time, and I know that in time, the links will fray and snap, and I will be float away, along with other souls tied to that time, to where we must go, like dandelion flowers waltzing in the summer breeze.

Goodbye, all. Those were good times. But, it appears as if it has no more meaning. One more time, I am forced to disappear to parts unknown, and perhaps the rest of you will forget me. Or perhaps you never knew I existed to begin with. No matter, those times were over. Perhaps I will miss you, but perhaps I will forget you all as well.

Goodbye N, the one I used to call sis. Goodbye EL, ST, LF, WR. You girls were fun, but when all of you disappeared, the void that was left has shattered everything. Goodbye Gabby, JC, BK. You guys were the worst, but even though it did shape my life in a good way, that life is dissolving into nothingness with every second, and so shall you all. Goodbye, my girls of the Opening Ceremony. Those were times of great fun, yes, but now I doubt those times even existed in the first place, and I wonder whether you girls even existed as well.

Perhaps it was all just a lot of wishful thinking on my part. Half a year of wishful thinking, in fact. Well, so I shall go on with my life in National Service, an amnesiac entity ignorant of his past, and not complaining about my drudgery anymore, for I would have known nothing better.

Goodbye. May time be merciful and wipe out all my memories once and for all.

ACK!!!! Jessa's STILL reading my blog???!!!

*Shock. Speechlessness. Detached jaw clattering on the floor.*

Okay. I know I'm just being stupid here. Back to the topic.

LOL, Jess. I really don't know what to say......okay, that's not true. Should I risk getting snubbed by you again by writing my opinion here again? Or should I just shut up and let you get on with your "self-imposed confusion"?

*thinks*

Heck. I'll just say it. After all, YOU'RE the one reading this :p

Anyway......Jess, that's just the way guys are, you know? It's not even about society hardwiring them to be the strong, silent types......it's in the blood of Martians. There's no real way one can actually get a man to truly open up about what he's really thinking, unless you're very, very close to him. Close enough to hop into bed with him.

(Alright, I know that's a crap analogy. And no doubt you, as well as many other born-again Christians, Muslims, Jews etc. etc. ad infinitum ad absurdum in this world will be flaming me for this, but hey, that's me, alright?!)

But anyway, get my drift? There are few males in this world who can actually talk about what is really meaningful to them. They're hardwired to keep things to themselves, 'cause any weakness you show is the end of the world for us guys, you know? That's how it is, and unfortunately there's no real solution for that, as far as I can remember. And for that matter, those few males that can really talk about their feelings freely, well they're better off going for that operation, if you get my meaning.

(Hmmm.....does that mean me as well? *thinks*.......nah. I'm just weird, period :p )

ROFLMAO

Jessa's been saying things about how she really wants a book that she could read, so that she could understand us guys better. Isn't it ironic? After all these years, Martians and Venusians are still trying to understand each other, and goodness knows they've been with each other long enough. So, Jessa, let me enlighten you on what men really want.

A night of the Premiership, with a naked, busty woman serving him beer. On another thought, make that two naked, busty women. The ultimate male fantasy, no?

Okay, no, seriously. Lil' Miss Jessa, just what can I say to you? I mean, I'm just as confused as you, or indeed everyone else is, y'know? But, what I can do for you is to recommend you this:

"Why Men Don't Listen and Women Can't Read Maps"

by Allan and Barbara Pease

Trust me, Jessa. It's useful, well it may not answer everything, but rest assured that it'll be a lot of help.

And so, that's all. I'm not going to post in your tagboard, for fear of the possibility that you would flare at me after realising I'm STILL reading your blog (yup, what do you expect from a sad case like me?). Instead, I think I'll just let you find my blog again, if you can ;)

I've had it up to here.

I've been hitting brick walls everyway I go. All the criticism, all the nastiness, all the lecturing......I can't take it anymore. I've got to tell someone, but who? Who even cares to listen to me? No one, that's who. What would happen if I complained? Everyone would just tell me to shut up.

Especially those who complained the most. I've had it with such hypocrisy. I've forced myself to keep my own thoughts to myself for so long, and yet I see people just shooting their own opinions, without regard to whoever they're talking to. Whatever I do, I keep getting spied on, and whenever the powers that be don't like whatever I'm doing, they spare no effort in assaulting me with questions, with sarcastic remarks. And I have no other option but to act meek, docile, obedient.

How I really wish there could come the day when I can just act the way I feel, and just tell them to FUCK OFF!!!!!!!!

I've had enough of this. How many years have I suffered being the meek one, ALWAYS having criticisms stuffed into my ears, ALWAYS keeping silent about what I'm really feeling inside, ALWAYS listening to other people bitch. How many years have I ALWAYS been forced to listen, never to talk? How many years have I had to shut up in front of questioning people, who give no quarter in gashing wounds on my soul? How much more do I have to suffer all of this?!

I've had enough. I don't want any more of it any longer. It's pointless being nice to people when they are reciprocating with the exact opposite attitude. Especially when they are your parents, and nagging you half to death, stabbing you with words that can kill. I've had enough. I really wish I don't have to listen to them any longer. For all the words they throw at me, it's all for fuck. How the hell is all this savaging supposed to help me? All it's doing is to make me feel like life's not worth living any longer, if this is what I'm going to have to go through for the rest of my life. And I don't have any avenues to vent any longer except this, and yet they don't realise it. They look at what I write, and then they put on a false mask of concern to ask me how I'm feeling. You wanna know how I'm feeling? Very well, what I'm feeling is FUCK, YOU, ALL.

I don't need you anymore. I have no more use for you. Just fucking leave me be, alright? Is that way too much to ask or something? Just let me be.

It has been a LOOOOOOOONG time, hasn't it? Hello all.

But what can I say, really? The past 3 weeks has been a blur of slogging through the Army, and weekends of lazing around, staring at the computer, living a life I've never had. In the meantime, I've managed to forget everything else, forget about what I used to be. Now, I'm a mere drone, doing what has to be done (or avoiding doing it), not putting much effort into doing anything at all. Well, perhaps except for my online role-playings, in fact, RPing has become almost the only thing in my life that I look forward to.

I remember when I used to be able to expand my mind in many different ways. Literature, chatting about life with friends, writing poetry, and at the end of the day, summing it all up with a good post in this blog, noting a day in my life worth talking about. Now all that has disappeared, and I am numb with the everyday toil that eventually teaches nothing of real intellectual value. But then, that's the Army for you. What do they really teach you anyway, except learn how to fire guns, adhere to a strict regime, take orders, and generally don't think about the meaningful things in life? Nothing. You're just being moulded to fit better into the autocratic system that is the society of Singapore, being forced into an indistinguishable shape that's not much different from the next Singaporean around you. Your unique thoughts are nothing, an imperfection to be wiped out from the model that is the perfect Singaporean, the perfect worker who just wants to get through life comfortably by being subject to whatever demands the Singaporean system demands on you.

But then again, who cares? Certainly not Singapore. Maybe those Big Ones Up there will come after me for such words, but what can I say? I've said all I wanted to say about this matter. You want to hate me? Fine. I can't be bothered. Go ahead and prove to the world how narrow-minded you all are.

I say no more. Now feel free to blast away.

Things can change so fast, especially if you're not expecting it.

Everything that used to define what I used to be had disappeared within the course of a few short months. In its place is something else I never wanted to be, and still don't want to be now. The people I used to know and love as my friends have all disappeared into thin air against all my efforts to prevent such from happening, and the people I have to get used to in my new life are no replacement. The daily toil of my past life is still no picnic when you think about it, but now, it seemed so much better than the daily toil I have to face now. And when the people you have to face daily aren't the people you wish to see, it can get really upsetting.

Where was the me who used to be? Gone, gone with the winds of time. The faces of my life as just another student are now haunting me, making my every effort to try and get used to the life of an army man maddening at best, and unbearably painful at the very worst. I just keep wanting to give up at every turn, every setback. Sounds awfully wimpish, huh? But then again, please wear my shoes. I'm now in a situation I've dreaded all my life, and I'm enduring what amounts to a living nightmare for me every single damned day of my life. And again, I'm having to do it without the support of those I trust enough to put down amongst my list of friends.

Where has everyone gone? Where is my hope? Where is my motivation for life?

Perhaps there is some way to make this all stop. Right now. The question is whether I'm desperate enough to attempt such a shortcut.

I need hope.

Hope that it'll all get better.

I need motivation.

Something to give me something to live for everyday.

I need a goal.

Something for me to ignite a passion for.

Something, anything. Just get me out of this hopeless drudgery.

I went back to PJC last Thursday, when I had a nights off. It was still only 6.30PM by then, so I thought I'd take the chance and sneak back in, see how it's turned out, since I had nothing to do for the night.

It's quite the experience. Returning to where I spent my last two years as a student was like a homecoming of sorts, even though by the time I arrived, the place was almost empty. It was kinda nostalgic to return, and truly, the place seemed like nothing had changed. It was the same old students, staying late at school to cram for whatever upcoming test or exam they're facing. Just like before, PJ was nearly silent at this time, and the only signs of exuberant activity were coming from the canteen, where the more social students had gathered to study together. Guess the principal's efforts at the Night Study programme are bearing fruit.

But there was something missing. The people. Specifically, the people I have come to know, and to associate with PJC. They have all left this place long ago. And of the faces that I see, almost none are familiar. The teachers I knew have left work, and the students of which I was one of have all gone. It's all strange faces, like......it was someone else's Pioneer. I saw only 1 familiar face that night, and I never approached her. I guess that's because I felt I no longer had the right to do so.

But still, it was a memorable experience of nostalgia.