hf: Who are you? Haha. Do i even know you in real life? I was the scary looking dude who hanged around the gym too much (and later the library). Just an image of me. But i miss my training days. Sure, it was helluva painful physically all the time but throwing the javelin was a release of pressure and it was something i wanted to work for. Life right now doesn't seem to have much aim save for getting my ass out of the army, I think of it all the time. And the worse thing is that I can't do anything about it. Whole day I lament about the leash around my neck, I get sick of it all. But I can't stop. I'm just like that...maybe life's just full of shit like this and it depends on how you want to handle it all. I'm just revelling in all the depression I guess. Bad.

bubbles: went to snoop around ya blog too. live in sembawang? Everytime I come home, I realise that Sun Plaza has a new shop or something changed. Kinda sad to know that the world moves on without waiting for you. I used to be at the library so often but I hardly even go now. I end up buying my books instead of borrowing them. Army allowance goes to food, books, transport and movies.

This period of limbo/transition between jc and uni is so different for boys and girls. Us males have our national service to perform, some hate it (like me...goddamn waste of time and talent..feel so sad for this smart platoon mate of mine, meant for so much more), some love it, some lan lan just live through it. Females either end up stoning at home or try finding jobs to earn some cash and yet some are sad too 'cause it's so mundane and boring. The thing is that this might just be the beginning of life; when one is attached permanently to a job, leashed to it and living a super monotonous life. Do you want your life to be like that?

Just woke up not long ago. Shouldn't have joined the peeps for a movie yesterday 'cause it had been a truly exhausting week. But How To Lose A Guy in 10 Days was kinda of an okay show. I'm a sucker for romance la...Was barely recovered from my illness and I was digging a firetrench with the rest on Mon. The whole night I toiled and suffered as my body refused to cooperate. Was so tired less than one hour into the whole digging thing. My head was spinning and I couldn't breathe. But I endured through the whole night, thanks to my pals who let me rest for long periods. Kinda glad I pulled through it all but I'm definitely not doing it again.

I wouldn't even be here if I hadn't taken my mc. Would be at Pasir Lebar Camp having my live shoot.

Just scoured my archives for stories I had written, wanted to print them out for remembrance sake (and if I ever get to publish my own collection). Saw the entries before army and I'm saddened, saddened at my lost of freedom, my rights. I miss those days. Even though the period before the exams were dark, at least I had something to look forward to (the end of the exams). Now, everything's rigid and I could be jailed for not reporting back tonight. Had to call so many people to inform them of my absence today on Friday. I read the posts I made in Korea, I read the quotes from the books I read, I was free and I knew not.

I wish to end this reality.

"And soon enough, soon enough, this will all be a memory/ And soon enough, soon enough, this will fade like a photograph/ Of you and me."
Tom McRae - Human Remains

Sweat. Trickles of them running down my back. Fan. Blowing hot air onto my back. T-shirt. Wet and stuck to my back.

My head spins. Feverish. The room is dark. The voice is haunting. He wants me to follow him, follow him to the springs of life.

I see three-dimensional structures of white before my eyes, spinning round and round, like models in a computer program. He shows me the path. This way to the springs! Follow the path! My head thumps, constricts and pain shoots everywhere. I need water, my mouth's dry. But ain't no one around to hear me cry, ain't no one around to assuage my pain. I'm all alone in my darkened room, dawn hours away. The structures shift and move before me, I see Roman pillars, I see marble stairways. He shouts at me, See how we gain victory! Learn boy, learn! Move the troops like this..I clutch my head, fingers pressing down, hands covering my ears; go away!

GO AWAY!

The structures move again, spinning, shoving; This path shall lead you to the springs of life. I gather all my strength and stumble to my drawer where I keep all my medication. The haunting voice reverberates in my head as I rummage in the darkness, the pain, excruciating. Feverish. I find my pills and pop two into my mouth as I crumble weakly on my bed. His voice fades. I fall lightly asleep, mouth dry, head pounding mutely.

Whoozy, having a sense of non-reality. Is all of this real? Could I just turn and end up somewhere else? Where army didnt matter, when life ends?

Is it the effects of my depleting drugs and the running nose? Or could it be the thirteen hours of sleep I had? Weird. So weird. Time passes by. I feel it slip through my fingers and onto another reality I project my consciousness.

I feel like puking.

I feel like I'm all alone.

I feel that the world is filled with nasty people who wouldn't care.

Went to the doc yesterday and he gave me some fever medicine and vitamin c. Was alright for most of the day till nightfall. The fever came back with a vengence and it was hard to sleep. Woke up this morning with my temp around 38.3 degrees. The weird thing is that whenever I manage to get to the clinic, the fever will subside. My head was reeling in pain and I even vomited twice; everytime I stood up the floor seemed to spin and I felt nauseated. Doc says it's only a flu bug but I'm afraid it might turn into dengue or something.

Know what's the worse thing? I already have tickets for Matrix Reloaded at 8:30pm later. And now I can't go watch. Argh. Of all times to be sick...unlucky I say. Must be my bed number. hmm.

The bad thing about being sick at this time is that most people would try to avoid you. It's the stigma of having Sars and frankly, I hate the feeling of being outcast by people around me. I was told to sit at the other side of the clinic just now in case I spread it to the others. And people typically stood further once they found out you're running a temperature. I guess I scared the hell out of the cab driver last night when I told him to turn down the air-con and sneezed a little while after. He immediately rolled down the window at his side and promptly turned really rude to me. Bah.

I want to watch Matrix......

Having a fever today...highest was 38.8 degrees around noon time. Been trying to suppress it with paracetomol (something the doc will dispense anyway) but to no avail. I'll see the doc tomorrow morning if the condition doesn't subside...Hope it's not sars though. Ack. But I wouldn't mind a ten-day qurantine at home. Haha. Everyone's gonna be out clubbing tonight and I'll be staying home. Not really that bad...don't really feel like drinking and making merry anyway. Will place an ice pack over my head and watch a show on my comp...

My medicine interview on Wednesday went better than I expected. Realised that I'm more articulate than I think I am. Hope I managed to charm my way through. Heh. Really counting on it to get out of army...I cant stand all the military shit man, unlike seng. Heh. I cannot be an effective leader out in the field though I maybe aggressive enough. And I think my sergeant can see that I'm not really motivated to do well in the army. Nice fella he is though. But he's a little too small-sized...lol.

KK was telling me about how sad he is to see some of his former section mates turn into different people. For 3 months they had laughed, cheonged, pumped and survived bmt. Now, he looks at them and realises that all of them have changed in more ways than one. Seems like they were only nicer (or more restrained) because they wanted to get into officer cadet school. The chance has slimmed drastically now and they let loose of their behaviour, lashing out at others, culturing a superiority complex and distancing from the rest of the platoon. All of them are in my section now and I don't have past experiences to compare with. Yet, it must be sad to realise that friendship is so fragile, so full of lies and deceit. Three months ain't enough time to really know a person; and it probably takes a lifetime. My mom always say that we ain't no need that many friends, just one or two true ones and your life would be good. No wonder I don't really like people.

WOLVERINE!!


Which X-Men Character Are You??
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Didn't cheat at the test and I got my fave character. I'm a little like wolverine, seriously. My friends can attest to that...except that I wouldn't be caught dead wearing spandex..haha. I look better in executive clothes (and I hate army fatigues).

Freakingly tired...just came back from an impromtu "class" outing. Met some of my classmates, I would consider friends though, and we did a little catching up over dinner. Went to get my mom a gift, something I haven't really done in a long time.

It came to me that in life, many things do not actually happen the way we want them to. And this causes grieve and makes us worry. We're barely into adulthood and we're already worrying about whether we can get into this particular course in uni or not. All of us at the table aspire to be doctors and well, some of us have the oppurtunity of at least getting the medicine interview at nus but some of us just fell short due to grades. But does it really mean so much, this piece of education certificate? Dreams, aspirations, never concrete, always a what-if, always a why.

All of us are stuck in a moment of our life where we seriously consider what happens next. At least for now, there isn't much to aim for but only waiting to do. And it really saddens me to see that we may not even achieve what we set out for. What comes next then?

Been reading the bible and I'm taught that I shouldn't worry about things I have no control over and just surrender to the emotions causing all these pains/worries. It's not that easy...and I feel that most of us at the table have the exact same sentiments about our situations. Oh well...maybe tomorrow will be a better day. Then again, I've got guard duty tomorrow and will be booking in at seven in the morning. Sickening. Dying of exhaustion already,

There was once a man who could assimilate things around him into his personality, his looks and his perceptions. The only thing that tied him down to his core was a silver cord that extended from his heart to his conscience, which was like holding down to a balloon trying to break free into the sky. He walked through streets aware of his being, yet unaware of his being. He knew not what he was meant to do in the world, yet he knew he had to do something.

One day when he passed by an old beggar and sympathy overcomed him. Slowly, he felt his body shrink, skin sticking to his ribcage, cheekbones protruding into the air; he developed a hunchback and a nasty cough. He had turned into a beggar and through his own eyes, he saw the dejection and diplidation of the world and the human spirit. People walked by, ignoring him, hardly even acknowledging his existence. He tried to reach out to them for help, for food (for his stomach burned in its own acids), for help. None was given. Was such depravity the condition of the ugly human soul? Where was the love? Where was the compassion?

Before he knew it, he was morphing into an affluent merchant; pockets lined with gold and brimming with coins. Suddenly, he knew wealth, he knew power, he knew nothing. Inside the shell of a richly-fed man was emptiness; cold and unyielding, only the desire for more wealth in its epicentre. People around him did not matter, only his own tummy was important. Everything can be bought, friends, love, businesses, land; everything a person needs. And he went about in this manner for days, living the high life, revelling in the evils of mankind, singing praise to the gods of money! But he never felt happiness in all the moments spent in that persona. Everyday, there was the fear of loss, of loneliness that gripped his heart, squeezing it.

Escape the mercenary man he did. In a flash, he absorbed the essence of a child and he reclaimed his stolen childhood. Once again, he saw the world at a height of three feet, where everything seemed large and threatening. And all he knew was the love of his mother, one that eveloped him, one that made the tears go away. In the boy's world, everything was a game, the worries of the grown-up world mattered not. He picked flowers on meadows for his mother, he ran through the streets, he climbed trees for fruits. The freedom of youth, the joy of owning nothing that could be lost made him understand that in life, love is most essential.

All of his shifting days ended abruptly when he lost his grip on the balloon. It drifted high up into the blue firmament, wandered among the wispy white clouds and went higher and higher. Contained within the balloon was the accumulated experiences of the man, each conflicting the other, each a distinct voice of its own. It exerted pressure against the walls of the balloon, as was the air pressure outside. As it got closer to the stratosphere, the balloon burst. A limp, rubber remnant of the confusing self it once was slowly fell back to Earth. Such was the tragic end of the man who could assimilate everything around him, nothing but a piece of trash at the end. Perhaps it was a better end for him, for the different voices drove him crazy, showing him the many facets of humankind. A disturbing race, nonetheless.

I wonder if people still read me. Have I become too boring? Hmm.

Was thinking of how great if I could just live life simply. It's the desire for material goods that depresses a person. I want this, I want that...I need this, I need that. But do we really need all of them? So what if you have the biggest tv set and loudest stereo? So that you can fully experience what the dvd can offer? Why is it that human nature demands so? Why can't we all be selfless and care for everyone?

Am in quite a dilemma now, do I really have what it takes to sacrifice myself for others? Am I doing it for the money? I know the interviewers can sniff out a poseur a mile away; am I trying to be someone I'm not? It seems that to be selfish and mercenary is so much easier. Then again, I look at the whole profession and a deep cynicism runs through me: how many of them are not doing it for the money? How many are truly there to save lives? To heal? If it is so, then most of them probably lied through the whole process and ended up where they are. Wouldn't that grant me a chance too if I lied and not be true to myself? It feels like two different selves, pulling my mind in different directions. Can you see the paradox here?

Guess Aristotle is right, "All paid jobs absorb and degrade the mind." No wonder eq told me to quote him.

"Our desire for another, to reunite our original nature, to make one out of two, to heal the state of man, this is an ancient desire, implanted in us. Separated, with one side only, like a flat fish, each of us is but a half-man, always looking for the other half. Human nature was originally one and were a whole, and the desire and pursuit of the whole is called love."
Plato - Symposium