High as Helium, Dead as Disco

a few mornings ago i woke up abruptly with a golden snapshot lingering in my head

it was a scene from when i was 8, a particular sunny day after our exams in school

and all the kids from my class went out into the quadrangle to play with bubbles and fly the styrofoam planes we bought for a dollar from our teacher

and what a lovely half an hour it was, 40 happy kids playing with simple toys on a sunny day when post-exams was the best time of your life.

couldn't figure out why this dream would pop back into my head 13 years later on a random morning for no apparent reason. but i suspect that all of us keep these specially innocent times hidden away somewhere deep, and once in awhile when we're least expecting, our minds conjure them up to remind us how it feels to be young and uninhibited and completely carefree.

perhaps most needed on tough days when life frustrates you and you wish growing up wasn't accompanied by painful lessons...

“So that's how we live our lives. No matter how deep and fatal the loss, no matter how important the thing that's stolen from us--that's snatched right out of our hands--even if we are left completely changed, with only the outer layer of skin from before, we continue to play out our lives this way, in silence. We draw ever nearer to the end of our allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off behind. Repeating, often adroitly, the endless deeds of the everyday. Leaving behind a feeling of immeasurable emptiness.”
― Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart

one month since the christmas lights

and the year is heating up

with some interesting developments

8 months still seems an awful long time to go

and this is a job which hangs nightmares on strings ready to snap

at a moments notice and disastrous scenarios stand ready to unfold

at the drop of a hat

but the knowledge that it is so,

and that there is absolutely nothing more i can do to avert these situations

also brings a sense of peace because as i learnt over the past year,

what cannot be helped should not be fretted over.

take things as they come

if you can envision the worst case scenario and the most painful of circumstances,

then there is no longer the fear of the unknown and anything but that is a welcome bonus.

they say that if you want to go fast, go alone

but to go far, find a partner.

well this isn't a journey,

its a sprint

to the end of these long 8 months.

when i think about it,

these 1 year 10 months could be a whole lot smoother

and easier

but then i wouldnt remember much of it,

except that it was smooth...and easy.

but it being as challenging as it is,

and the pressure that i face;

i know that i won't forget these years,

and that they don't run in vain.

and as they say, these years go by with hardly any consequence on the rest of your life

and screw-ups are confined to the moment you commit them, and then no more.

No consequence save for..

the challenges that shape you,

the people who teach you people

the failures and hopelessness

the creative problem solving

with recognition comes expectation and the cycle is vicious and painful

i wonder if every year that goes by shapes who we are and if

one year we reach an end stage where we are finally who we will always be

and if this year is the year or the year our bodies stop growing

does our character solidify too

i wonder if in not keeping our traditions we inadvertently

gives bits of ourselves away and we are always something new

and finally when there is nothing new we are finally nothing

i wonder if a person can be so emotionally detached from his life

that it becomes a compilation of actions

and if life can be physical and just physical and would that still be living

i wonder if your body feels old because it really is and your mind

feels old because your body thinks it is and is it cause and effect

is it chicken and egg and if i keep telling myself i am getting younger instead

will i find myself a child again.

i wonder if this year has changed anyone's life forever,

if something i did made a difference, and if its possible to live a year of life

which has absolutely no impact on the rest of your life and could be edited out without consequence

i wonder if this year was such a year.

how do you measure character growth

is it disturbing if you feel a conscious change in your psyche and your rough edges file smooth

if you feel instead of being polished you are developing gritty sharp corners

if a veneer of mirrors passing for armor snake across your skin

every year is one step closer to who you're gonna be

i wonder if you ever walk the shadow paths

that take you up the silent hill

under an unsmiling moon

on a night you flee flying from

ghosts who take courage from the hearts of

young men on battlefields bleeding bravery

and brokenness too

i wonder if you wander among the gravestones

sidestepping the epitaphs of tragic dreamers

whose ghosts match you step for step

watching you with empty eyes that once held

visions

each gravestone is a memory

and each memory a ghost

each ghost is a vision

Us visions,

with our empty eyes and ethereal forms,

we watch silently,

as you make your way up the shadow paths.

i love this time of the year when the wind changes

and the smell of the air changes

and the gale blows cold.

i like that the shopping malls play jingles

and although i know its part of manipulating consumer psychology purchase behaviour,

it works.

its always about traditions.

"The flirt is a very French speciality. You like to seduce, even for nothing. It's a good experiment to realize you have power over someone. The French consider la séduction to be one of the arts of living." —Carine Roitfeld (French Vogue)

Love—why, I’ll tell you what love is: it’s you at seventy-five and her at seventy-one, each of you listening for the other’s step in the next room, each afraid that a sudden silence, a sudden cry, could mean a lifetime’s talk is over.

- Brian Moore, The Luck of Ginger Coffey

i confess that sometimes i find myself a little lost,

and in moments being thus misplaced,

am drawn into the doing of things which make me feel alive.

sometimes its simply being new, or doing things that are unusual and perplexing

out of character,

but on more dangerous days

i am wont to walk the thin lines of abominations,

crossing the thresholds of the acceptable,

dabbling in the devious.

clinging to the precipice of propriety

i breathe in the fumes of existence

and feel the hole filling, filling,

the gaps plugged.

but you know, as i do,

that the vacuum is never satisfied,

the black hole can never be filled,

never be made whole...

so it takes more each time,

the darkness that is drug

the innocence that feeds it,,,,,

it takes a little more each time.

once in awhile i dream of people i used to know.

randomly and totally uncalled for.

they just appear in my head while i sleep and usually i remember these dreams.

who i am i think, is largely harking back to who i've been.

Words are beautiful because poetry comes from the soul.

Pictures cheat because they come easy. The source of pictures are visual in nature,

and what is seen is rarely as important as what is felt.

Words come from the heart, a wellspring of memories which really means

that because they cannot be seen they can very well be conjured out of ...

really nothing at all.

I like fiction because fiction is an escape

and that is terribly empowering.

i once read that guys have shorter life expectancies than women because they keep everything inside- their emotions and distress buried beneath a strong front. and its like grenades exploding in a room... nothing much can been seen from the outside, but the foundations are shaken, the earth is loosened , and soon the cracks will appear....

i confess that it bothers me a little, because its so true that guys bottle too much up- its our pride that kills us.

and i keep imagining in my head some unseen tension that builds up in my body and will someday manifest in a magnificent heart attack and i will become a statistic of the "guys with short life expectancies".

also because i spent all of this morning getting screamed at.

cant be healthy.

so you see how i'm dancing through time

and the vapors are vipers and there really is no

escape from the form that rages to be free

which comes uneasily to me

that holds on to the handrails of the sands of a

depleted time.

and even if with subdued grace the former returns to form

the stitches remain undone, undone to the bone

a cut, a slash, a gash

a fallen comrade from a greater time

a missing song by missing singers

to placate the masses with

a cut, a slash, a gash

the bird is free today,

yesterday, 3 years hence.

it never returns.

A Caution to Poets

What poets feel, when they make,
A pleasure in creating,
The world, in its turn, will not take
Pleasure in contemplating.

—Matthew Arnold, from New Poems, 1867

In the darkest depths of the deathliest dark,

where fire and thunder torture the heart;

where life is pain and disaster reigns....

and the eternal night repeats again.

here where angels fear to tread

and dreamers stay awake

the blood of saints flow red;

the loftiest brow yet grows afraid

devoid of love and light

but reeking of regrets that

cut like knives and steal your

sense of right like

hooks that pull the hope from

unsuspecting fish.

this torrid tundra of tyranny

drives the wise men mad

evokes the most primal nightmares

of the children who knew no nightmares

bids surrender the knights of light

who take flight at the sight

of the dread foul beasts that patrol the lava streams

of lake lachrymose which flows between

mt despair and the forest of 10 000 tears(behind the path of scars)

and in this miasma of broken glass and shattered hearts,

songs are screams and some sing screams,

in this end of the world,

i keep my favourite memory of you.

sisterdiaries.tumblr.com

It Never Comes Again

THERE are gains for all our losses,
There are balms for all our pain,
But when youth, the dream, departs,
It takes something from our hearts,
And it never comes again.

We are stronger, and are better,
Under manhood’s sterner reign;
Still we feel that something sweet
Followed youth, with flying feet,
And will never come again.

Something beautiful is vanished,
And we sigh for it in vain;
We behold it everywhere,
On the earth, and in the air,
But it never comes again.

—Richard Henry Stoddard

on sat the family went to take a family portrait at a studio.

more than a year since jie graduated from uni and i from poly,

because we were waiting for dad to finish his masters this year.

wearing the graduation gown again, i couldn't help but marvel at how life has changed since we graduated-it seems life a lifetime ago- and yet it still feels like it isn't over.

only yesterday was the time of our lives, as dad never fails to remind me everytime we drive past tp. i don't think that growing up was ever quite so painful in our parents' day... but with our generation there is a heavy reluctance that pulls us back; the recognition that it doesn't get easier or better or happier with age.

Age propels us forward whether or not we like it; nostalgia is the cord that binds us to our yesteryears. And then there's a subtle fear that our best years are behind us.

so we take photographs.

its a nod to the transience of our lives, an acknowledgement of our ephemeral natures, and a grim attempt to grasp the sands of time, hold frozen the moments we don't want to lose.

at the end of the day the best of moments will still pass into silence, which is why the sincerity of photos are such a joy to behold. No matter how much has changed, they remind you of a perfect moment in time.

we all have unspoken fear of losing things forever, coupled with the fear of change.

I read that a person has 3 deaths.

The first is when your heart and brain stops. Your body ceases to function and all that is warm turns soon cold and hard. Then begins to melt away. Your physical existence ends, the space you occupy on earth fades.

The second is when your body is consigned to the ground, in a coffin, or an ash urn. Loved ones accept you gone, and similarly consign you to the corners of their hearts and minds set aside for the dearly departed.

The last death we did is when our names are spoken for the last time, somewhere in the future. Perhaps a casual mention, an absent-minded recollection, an anecdote, but sooner or later, the day will come when henceforth, your name will not be spoken again.

Then, the memory of your existence, in the minds of the living will be forever lost, and you will be truly dead.

macabre thoughts indeed, but as they say,

the heart always brings you back.

waiting to book back to camp in awhile, its been pretty much like this the past week- booking out for a few hours, then back in.

Learning to be unfazed interacting with big shots because rank is really nothing much to shout about. you tend to feel this way after prolonged exposure to undeserving rank holders.

but really, its all about finding your meaning, fitting in (or not), surviving.

i find it hard to fault some of my contemporaries for playing the game, and all the bootlicking and groveling that entails... its just their way of surviving after all... pusillanimous as it may be.

and i play in my own way.

i do my best (more or less), and so when complaint letters come (such as the one that appeared in CO's feedback box over the weekend), i am not unnerved... at the very least i stand ready to defend myself. the guilty sleep uneasy these nights.

and the majors and colonels gossip about each other and then put on their smiley faces and make their small talk; they don't notice the specs watching them from the background and yes, they demand respect still..

TALENT is universally recognized, but so is incompetence. woe then is our organization which on so many levels overlooks both of these.

just last week josh and i talked about how army kills many things in you.

optimism, reason, motivation, and perhaps hope too.

obviously it isn't like this throughout the system and i'm sure many of my friends out there are having the time of their lives (sarcasm unintended)... or at least find meaning in their work.

strictly speaking, someone has to do what i do and there isn't a good reason why it shouldn't be me...

but don't we always wish for something more?

september comes around; somewhere across the world a thousand heartbeats quicken as a familiar dread creeps up- this month of infamy, a decade ago, the spirit of america was crushed in a day. and now 10 years later, the grief has ebbed leaving a familiar throbbing when this time of the year arrives, and they remember their dearly departed.

these people, dreaming with broken hearts.

for our NE excursion 2 days ago, we visited 3 places, culminating in a visit to the Kranji war memorial.
Few people have ever been there, but its exactly my kind of place- the peace, the introspection, the intricately manicured lawns, perfectly lined gravestones marble white shining in the sun...

but most of all, the captured emotion that sings out to anyone who would stop to listen; the thousands of visitors past who come from afar, making their pilgrimage to visit their lost loves buried defending singapore.
I looked though the guest book and was moved by the messages left by visitors from australia and the uk, probably middle-aged now, come to visit the parents they last saw when they were kids, now buried in our soil.

which is why i say, the gravestones sing of forgotten people, people missing people intensely, of young ones come to remember, old ones come to find peace, comrades come to see their fallen, and then there's us,

from what i observed of my men i brought there- a generation of rather ungrateful brats,

shunning the sunshine; playing among the stones, truly truly, lost.

I was particularly jaded that afternoon; it had been a terribly frustrating day. But as i walked the lawn and read the inscriptions, a sort of awe came over me. This was a past era of heros and villains, a bygone time of bravery and selflessness, bloodshed fighting for ideals or survival, and the overwhelming tragedy is war. Men and women who died far from their homes with tears in theirs eyes, died defending what we have today, under a sun that did not shine for them.

and the honorable gurkhas, whose families will never see them here, died anonymous, died fiercely brave, now silent. And where is the glory in that?

one inscription read " .... forever loved and missed by a heartbroken mother"

i thought that was terribly depressing.

i particularly love the silence of it all because it holds so much meaning. Wars end, and the finality of it rests in silence of death. When all is said and done, the dust settles and the blood dries... the years will pass too quick and people will remember until they who remember are dead too but finally there will be a calming peace and life goes on as if brave blood was never spilt. I wish they could see what they fought to create.

kranji war memorial

but this entry is because as september pulls around, it reminds me that a year has gone by since i was in cambodia. this in itself would not mean much to anyone else but me. but because that one month left such an indelible imprint on my life, the fact that it has been so long but remains such a constant thread in my mind was somewhat surprising .

some of the kids visited singapore last week and had dinner at my place, and those few hours brought me back to a year ago. An ordinary year would not have meant that much, but a year in the army is far more than a year without. Hearing their updates, it seems like so much has changed in the past year.

Inevitably, this thread leads me to recall what i achieved there, how i viewed myself then, and how i view myself now. I say inevitable because when you meet someone you haven't seen in a long time, self-consciousness forces you to look at yourself through the eyes of the other party, and so you see how you have changed.

i'd be lying if i said that what i saw then didn't worry me slightly.

or a lot.

again, i would be lying if i said that it was 100% due to the influence of army on my life.

those 3 hours of dinner i spent watching myself, i saw the small almost imperceptible bits of my that i've cut away this past year, and the other coats that i've put on since then.

all isn't lost yet, because as much as seeing the cambo kids makes me reflect on my flaws today, they also remind me of a time when i was greater, and the strength i think i have to change. After all, a year ago, i flew there in a rather messy emotional state, and there through my interactions with them found a long lost light.

so, hope remains.

so as september pulls up, i think about heros and past personas, forgotten people and change, and hope.

its been a year

Chorus:
Bring me home tonight
can we leave for awhile
you said come here child

(Verse 1)

This morning i woke and i wrote please god grant me the serenity/
to know whats gotten into me/
for me to look to the sky whenever i need that help/
for me to look towards god before i look towards myself/
you pulled me out of hell and uplift/
that put me on my way, on my pursuit of happiness/
underneath this exterior dorments something demonic/
solitary confinement dormints something psychotic/
got my back against the wall, up against the bricks/
on the edge of the surface which is digging into my skin/
knowing that this aint for me, its for them/
their drowning hopefully that one day their able to swin/
what this song needed was a voice which i gave/
like a rock struck by tidal waves/
how much more can i take of this before i break/
will this overcast fade or be the last i see the sun today.

(Verse 2)
Fixated on becoming this prodigy/
blinded not by the sun but blinded by this oddessy/
cause what i got to be is prophecy redirect my approach/
and to make sure in this game i go harder than most/
once the beast is provoked and with all that i am/
simply articulate, a prison of passion/
just a artist, a slave to the pen/
it only takes the slightest spark for the artist to be awaken/
when i’m awake i’m thinkin wield words from the cranium/
When i’ve got god impacts become spontaneous/
never asked for this, god must have something instore/
strike the lighter let my fire rekindle/
songs in my head waiting to form stanzas/
this may be the death of me but i’ll take my chances/
as the novice advices, lyrically inhances/
plunge this battlefield with spears, swords, and lances.

i like birthdays

designed for fuzzy warm feelings ... or wistful resignation, depending on which end of the age spectrum you arrive at.

thankfully, im still in the first quadrant, enjoyable at least for now.

i've come to believe that the two best époques are childhood and old-age (if you're healthy) .

being a kid is joyful innocence, and learning about life and love and not quite seeing things as they are, just rose-tinted glasses and rainbows, holidays, crayons.

and most of that is lost quite soon as youth rides by in a cloud of cigarette smoke on a Honda bike. lost in first-loves and first heart breaks, failures and distance and expectations and betrayal and pride.

so learn your lessons early,

or the next 30 years is a struggle to survive, and hit the terribly unrealistic goals you as a youth set for yourself- but lets face it- not every one of us will grow up to be rich and healthy and happily married.

some of us will get sick, divorced, killed in accidents, broke, jailed... and every other manner of calamity we shut our minds to now (other than insurance-related purposes)

and the education continues into adulthood- that no financial institution is infallible, nor any government, nor any other institution- those of marriage, family etc

and many will carry these burdens into the final leg of their lives, which is a tragedy.

their ghosts will stalk them into the sunset of their lives, bankrupting their hopes and taking their light until they are shells in perma catatonic states, wasting away in one of the many old-folk homes in singapore.

but if they be blest, then they will find a balance in their lives, and success, and start to leave the striving to a younger generation, releasing their yokes little by little,

and find their childhood again, returning to memorable paths once walked on tinier feet, lost loves and dreams unexplored. And discover new things, as only people who have nothing to lose can discover.most importantly, to make peace with the skeletons that remain, and the cobwebs of yesteryear that cast shadows on their twilight days......

here also some will scramble, upon realizing that time gathers momentum and their legs grow unsteady... and finding that their lies thus far have been empty pursuits and suits and chasing and striving... and completely meaningless. so comes charity and volunteering and milking the last drop of their energy to validate their lives, hoping that it meant something to someone..

until death comes, and their final victory is to lie still and silent, leaving behind legacies and stepping into the light knowing that

life was not in vain.

so i think childhood is the best- young or old.

and i like birthdays, because jaded as i may be,

they still remind me that i am blessed

beyond what i deserve, more than i can hope for

or dare to ask.

hfsn

2am on a 8hr midnight till dawn,
an enclosed room with nothing but machines for company and graveyard silence..
chilled by a cooling system designed with the machines in mind, so we dress for winter in here

at the risk of sounding jaded (which i'm frequently told i advertise), i would venture to state that the challenges i face here are unprecedented ... both in scope and scale.
and while the past 7 months have prepared me somewhat, life in an active (and frequently activated at that) unit is quite different.

the lack of reason, the stubborness, and even the well-intentioned but poorly-advised intiatives..
also the respect that superiors will demand but never earn, the hierarchy which really is a glorified food-chain, and how sometimes its better to be the bottom than to be sandwiched somewhere in the middle with a semblance of authority but with no room to execute it efficiently.

and then there is the satisfaction i secretly derived today after an incident which made me realize that regardless of how mild his personality, how kindly, how helpful, finally everyone really is selfish. and obviously this doesn't show easily for people who are generally nice...

but one thing about the army is that it provides ample stressors that quite effectively strip away false pretences and forces a person to show exactly what he is. like a 48hr standby shift.
and then even the nicest most accomodating chap is a war-machine, desperate to argue borrow beg steal kill to get out of it at the expense of anyone and usually,everyone.

and this is why they say that the army is where Holiness goes to die, and i can say it is sadly quite an accurate statement, although not a definitive one.

still, one grows and learns in such situations, and skills learnt here are as good as any other,
and small acts of heroism are sporadically apparent.

To Adriel :

Dear Ge,

Happy 21st Birthday! Congrats, you are now an adult and i pray that you will continue to mature physically, mentally, and spiritually as you embark on the journey of adulthood. Too bad that i'm younger and i can't tell you about your birth like you told me about mine. Even if i did, you probably wouldn't believe me haha. It was really saddening that u could not follow us to Australia. there was a sense of 'emptiness' among us as we toured around.

Wah how u type my letter so long sia idk what to say now...oh. Also stay close to God as when you are an adult you will have to make life-changing choices. Always make him part of your plans and never leave him ouy. Haha I know you know much more than me but i'm speaking for my innocence. ;) Thank you for occasionally bringing me out for movies, buying Daniel X: Watch The Skies by James Patterson for me, sharing your Garrett Popcorn with me. Thought i do not like to say thank you but deep down in my heart, i'm grateful.

Also, I am happy that you are making an effort to come to church even though you always sleep late on saturday nights. And don't always stay up late outside, I second the parent's thoughts and sometimes are conscious for your safety. Anyways, you know martial arts so you are probably quite well-versed when killing your enemies. Congrats for completing almost 1 year of army! Endurance, endurance! Every day spent in army gives you 1/99% of your future six packs. Stay close to Him because I believe we is shaping you and moulding you into the person he wants you to be.

I agree that Mom is indeed getting older, as she thinks her rheumatism is acting up. As their children, we must join hands and unite, only then we can overcome our obstacles and ensure the continuity of our kind. You are really really big now as compared to 21 years ago. Read you bible more, I always see it dusty and its like the same bible since 50 months ago under your stack of magazines! Haha. You look really cute when you march at your various POP's. Continue to always read the newspapers and books, setting a good example for me. I love your hair sometimes. I know army life is tough and i will be glad to support you in any way possible. Thank you for all the advice in the letter for my birthday. Hmm... in conclusion, always stay close to Him, all the best for the next many months in the army, God bless you and i pray that God will see you through your whole adulthood.

Time really flies and you are 21 already. I adore you for not making this a need for a big celebration, like Jie's HORT PARK (FLOWER ROOM SEED ROOM) HAHA. But most importantly, it is the heart feeling that you're 21 and earthly things do not matter. Okay, I know that my letter isn't that good cause i don't write to girls.(like you) :) Haha I also know my sentencing sucks, vocabulary etc sucks but its the though that counts!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AND GOD BLESS AS YOU VENTURE INTO ADULT HOOD!

21 July 2011

7:16pm (sorry its rushed)

Thursday CRAP YOU'RE CALLING NOW BYE!

DANIEL EN

so instead of sleeping with one eye open and walking tightropes,

i'd much rather be reclining in a dim-lit room listening to classical music and tasting whiskey.

but then so do most people.

but i'm learning, and only in extreme situations do you learn new things about yourself.

like how i've learnt that i'm actually bad at concealing my feelings, contrary to what i've always believed.

twice in the past month i've been told by trainers that my expressions make it very clear what i think of them. so not as stoic as i thought then.

and these are precious lessons that teach me how to better live my life.

and in these times the world revolves around a few simple things, re-classified into simple missions and objectives that must be attained. leave emotion out of the equation, and then really, its all about mental endurance.

also, i've been contemplating my relationships with people, and the dysfunction which has set in by no conscious choice of mine, a shadow that extended from ghosts of years long past.

and i wonder where they are now, and if life is everything they wanted it to be, since the last time we looked eye to eye.

the thing about being a solider- as least one in combat- is that it pushes you to explore limits of yourself that you never knew existed.

and only after you have crossed the peak and look back across the plains you have traversed, that you think yo yourself "wow, that was a dark place i was in"

you can't quite remember what got you through, or wherefrom the strength you drew, but that you are here today where you are is a testament to your ability to survive.

and that is always worth celebrating.

Steel Wall last week was an unprecedented challenge, because i did not expect that we'd be put under such strain because of the nature of our vocation.

One thing i've recognized these past 7 months as a soldier is that under intense duress, the voice that screams impossibility and surrender is a powerful force. And every cog in your brain turns to rationalize giving up and giving in, until hanging on or moving forward seems almost foolish.

As fatigue and lack of sleep overwhelm, these mental and emotional struggles grow more frequent and the arguments harder to win. I was like that last week, after sleeping 4/65 hrs,

and my argument was that the commanders were unreasonable to expect so much, they did not understand our physical limits, their planning was flawed etc

But then the other thing i've learnt is that with every decision you make to press on, you build mental strength, and the longer you hold on, the sillier it becomes to give up before the race is won.

and again, in the darkest moment, still there remain small pockets of peace to find.

i have lain exhausted on the grass after striking down and rebuilding a 400sandbag weapons emplacement at 2am, and then looked into a star-filled sky and for a moment forgotten my fatigue and enjoyed a moment of serenity.

on sat night i heard a tragic love story, which isn't as uncommon as it should be nowadays.

thing is, we cannot choose who we love, or vice versa, but our actions are always conscious choices.

and i think love- even true love- cannot be blamed for the foolishness we perpetuate, or the people we hurt in the name of it.

and because of this, hate springs from love and from deep love spawns rancorous hate.

a few days ago i had a weirdass dream.

i like the feeling of dreams ending.

i rarely wake with a start; its usually the sensation of tug-of-war between reality and dreams..

it feels a little like inception.

my dream is a perfect world albeit one without rules and reason, an upside down world without gravity or consequence. but we never realize the impossobility of our dreams until we see them in retrospect.

and then as your mind slowly awakens, you begin to process things with a rational mind; paint peels, cracks appear in the walls, a black hole begins to swallow and suck and with piercing revelation you suddenly see that this cannot be, and it is not your world; this is a dream ergo you must be asleep.

the sensation is akin to that of surfacing in a pool, rushing upwards toward a light, leaving a swirling whirlpool of grey mess behind, breaking the surface,

and then i open my eyes and i am in my bed and it is saturday morning.

I was thinking about Mr Chiam and how he must have felt that night.

I always feel more for the lesser characters, those whose grief are not trumpeted to the world.

I wonder how he would have felt, his failed gamble, and perhaps more at the loss of his party in his longtime fortress.

did he feel betrayed, at the 50% that jumped ship, did he regret venturing out, did he feel like this was an unfitting end?

what annoys me is that at the end of the day, people are just unable to recognise how blessed they are to have what they have. and they fail to recgognise that there will always be trade-offs no matter what government you have. but the nature of humans is such- to ever search for a nom-existent perfect, wallow in perpetual discontent, and whine whine whine.

its the shallow idealistic who think themselves well-read - they've heard the whispers of criticism from the west about freedom of press and speech, and fancy themselves freedom fighters for a glamorous cause.

if they were truly informed, they would see the miracle that is our govt, and how rare it is to find. virtually scandal-free, incorruptible, and intelligent above all.

i support the policy of fielding only the best and most intelligent. its the igonorant who believe that a government can be made up of people running on passion. fact is, it takes careful study and in-depth knowledge to craft policies, an intricate understanding of economics and cost-benefit analyses. so far, the opposition talks and talks but fails to give plausible alternatives. everyone of the manifestos are riddled with feel-good alternatives that would appeal on a superficial level, but it doesnt take much analysis to realize the deeply flawed "solutions".

not to mention the reputation of our country to the international community. doesnt bode well for our generation if we comprise an electorate that votes the unqualified and unthinking into power.

i like a comment i read by someone who attended a rally and observed that the crowds cheered wildly everytime the opposition speakers derided the pap, but soon fell silent when the speaker started proposing alternatives. they fight by appealing to emotions and play on people's dissatisfaction, without proposing anything worthy in exchange.

it's easy to criticize from the comfort of your armchair, in the house you own, on internet infrastructure not found in many countries, on phones, laptops, and other forms of technology that put you in the top 10 percen of the world's rich.

it's easy to criticize the architects of our systems, easy to fault them for the tough decisions they've made, the people they've hurt, wrongly or rightly.

it's easy to forget how rare good leaders are, easy to be greedy for cheap ideals, greedy for what the western press pressures us to think we need, greedy for the promises offered by a few newcomers.

what is not as easy is giving credit where credit is due, recognizing quality, taking pride in their achievements, and giving your support as an encouragement to do better. it's not as easy.

their flaws abound, arrogance and monetary blackmail and bribery or sorts too. they don't often listen , if at all, and can be merciless in incapacitating dissenters.

but i think it takes one with foresight to realize the wisdom of their approaches to many issues past, and their (our) results speak the volumes that the naysayers don't. look past flaws to see the potential for growth, pay no heed to the whining and tired rhetoric of an opposition that stumbles over itself and provides alternatives that cannot be reasonably supported by actions- untried and idealistic, pandering to the emotions of citizens who cannot tell the feasible and untenable apart.

i do not support the government becase it gave me $600, i support them because their stewardship of my country puts it in the enviable position of being able to expand billions in payouts to its citizens. that speaks more to me than silly suggestions to close the casinos and shorten ns, cut the infantry, let go of manufacturing.

i have an agnes b bracelet that has the label 'think' .

i got it because the theme resonated with me- too many people go through life not contemplating their actions and decisions, and one of my pet peeves are people who have low situational and self-awareness.

but recently i've begun to think that there really isnt that much value in the consideration we give things after all. questions beget questions, and answers are rarely final. some of the most enlightened people i know choose to breeze through life whistling 'carpe diem' , ignorant of the world around them. there is value in that too, and perhaps all this thinking about thinking is merely overthinking.

Tous les méchants sont buveurs d'eau;

C'est bien prouve par le déluge

[The wicked are great drinkers or water,

as the flood proved once and for all]

high-handed and arrogant was never really an issue with me,

because it was done on a scaffold of superior intellect and experience.

A proven track record and august credentials lend authority to the tone by which the incumbent chastised the hopeful.

but this time round they seem to have fallen to cheap tactics of mudslinging and name-smearing, nitpicking and personal attacks.

perhaps the prospect of real challenge and loss this time pushes them to desperate measures, and their near panic and insecurity shines through amidst the aspersions they cast across the river.

but that's politics for you, more often than not a race to uncover dirt and scandal, and less often a contest of superior decision making and policy crafting. i had hoped we would be different, but recent events prove disappointing, even the most austere of personalities fail to maintain the dignity of political jousting.

and... why do our politicians speak so poorly?

also,

i'm and increasing less social, the past few book outs have been spent at home,

reading in a silence or to 92.4.

a growing partiality to classical music, i think i am falling old.

when the modern guy lacks i think, are the olde worlde attributes that used to define manliness.

Hardly any guy i know, myself included, still posses that kind of charm and chivalry that used to be so prized a trait in men.

gentlemanliness, i think is the single most lacking trait in men, especially asian men. we just don't have it in our culture.

more than opening doors and pulling out chairs, its a respect for others, old and young, both male and female, and includes an element of selflessness too.

And really, thats the hardest part.

Perhaps we are no longer knights because ladies are hardly distressed damsels anymore, , or perhaps chivalry died somewhere in between feminism and modernization ....

but it would still be charming if men still behaved the way they used to back in the day.

and also it would be nice to wear hats and tip them at passing ladies.

earlier today dad was commenting about how sad it was

that children no longer play in the sun.

he was referring to one of those olden-style funfairs that had been set up outside century square.

he mentioned how when he was a kid , children went crazy over those rides and begged their parents to take them.

but little kids these days tote ipads and iphones and shrink away from sun and sweat, not to say old rickety rides that can hardlly rival the glory of the universal studios, roller coasters.

but i think even in the young people today, there is a yearning for things of the past, a curiosity about the days of old, the sunshine days of our parents' bygone era. i always feel a little sad for the operators of those old funfairs, because they fight a losing battle, against the giants of technology and novelty and a ever changing definition of fun.

who would have known that someday , children would no longer love the sun?

so what happened was that on friday an hour before book out,

it suddenly struck me that i wasn't nearly as excited/pleased about it as i used to be

about my station now-

a strange experience, a mix of motivation and demotivation,

constantly torn between extreme action and simultaneous malaise,

languid body and inert mind.

and an overwhelming and inescapable notion that all pleasure (if any) is ephemeral.

i cannot say i hate it,

nor can i say i live inspired.

but as in all things, i find that pondering these things is meaningless, to borrow from the ecclesiastical theme.

and perhaps there is no fault in merely existing, floating, spinning in and out of purpose and detachment. many things are made more bearable.

which of course has consequences.

but still.

truth.beauty.freedom.love.

also,

the frustrating lack of intelligence.

happy birthday cons,

some things will always keep changing,

other things once established never alter.

The world seems to be burning tonight,

if you close your eyes you can almost hear the wails from the other side of the world.

in our little paradise we remain most isolated, with nary a whisper of wind,

the rush of a wave.

but i think that the tremors reach us in subtle waves, the trepidation of things to come,

a sense of our frailty; the fragility so easily shattered.

and often i stop and wonder, by what blessing did we deserve this peace, untouched by disaster or storm, an oasis impervious to the plagues of the world?

i'm reading Hard Truths,

and LKY's mind truly is most remarkable. The depth of his thinking, the steel of his resolve.

but more than that, i've developed an appreciation for the miracle that is our country,

and the many paths we could have taken that would have led us to doom;

our mere existence a stroke of fortune, most assuredly divine providence, and yes, excellent leadership.

but on a softer note,

the 2nd last section recounts his youthful days and experiences which he holds dear,

one of them being his cambridge days with his wife, posing for a photo taken by ex-CJ YPH in their youth.

and with a tinge of nostalgia he says that in the 90s he revisited the place, but in his words, "it was a different cambridge, we were different people, and it was a rainy day. so that's that"

and that struck a chord with me because i am wont to sentimentality and often find myself trying to relive days past, places past, people past.

and the truth is that most of these moments come once and never again, for a fleeting moment that embeds itself in your memory indelible.

and you can go back, but it'll always be different people, different place, different time.

in the words of a fellow cadet, "this is life. accept it."

last night out with B and R was a small step into memory lane-

it seems like forever since that fateful night we went night cycling -

and other good times

like ubin

and bangkok too..

and it hasn't been that long, just a coupla years,

but life is not categorized into life pre-army and life now

and pre-army seems like a lifetime ago.

and don't we all miss those days

army life has been an exercise in enlightenment, seeing the world , bubbles bursting,

lenses lifted, and the not-insignificant frustrations that accompany trying to find people of similar mind.

but mostly,

freedom is a concept you never fully grasp until you no longer have it

and to a minuscule extent i understand the torture of prison.

but the trick is to keep breathing, to take things week by week,

hour by hour,

minute by minute,

just keep breathing.

The corruption begins slow, a quiet whisper- a suggestion.

An exchange of views, why nots, turning to look the other way

A little compromise, the devil does not immediately reveal itself;

the days wear on, the nights are long, but the facade maintains for now..

till the cracks appear in the wall, a slip here and fumble there,

friendly reminders from the past that pull you back, you hesitate-

for a moment the flames abate till

with a vengeance, the wave is a whirlpool, a hurricane the breeze becomes;

disgust is the face in the stained mirror and

you walking the walk of shame like so many before you

but

you will not stop until you hit the wall

because the dark is a comfort not easily surrendered

and you know the hurt it brings and you bear the crushing weight..

but until your bones are dust gold chains fall to rust,

i know you will not stop.

my heart breaks tonight, knowing that those days have ended, and soon enough a new season will begin, where people will be choosing and chosen, a time of pain and separation, letting go, and at least 2 of us wishing that we could go back to our youthful innocent days when we did not know such pain.

it scares me a little, how the days fly by

didn't there use to be a longer interval between christmas and the new year?

i felt like i'd just done CNY visiting, and here we are at the same once-a-year houses again.

how did 2010 fly by?

but,

i feel like taking a holiday now,

enjoy the breeze somewhere i don't need to march,

sing a real song,

feel like i'm free.

eat some real food, think of nothing,

not worry about the clock that ticks and the alarm which rings

tells me its time to book in for another week,

not easy to find life,

enthusiasm

or individuality

and

i think i've been a little more social than usual

but

that's just a by-product of deprivation

the lack of social interaction

and if my words come disjointed

i don't think i can be faulted for

we become what we surround ourselves with

still here i am, waiting for inspiration, something to

make sense of this rote.

nonetheless,

over and above,

beyond the furthest,

in all things,

still,

as they so like to say,

all we ar e we a re.

wet grass beneath your feet;

rumbling of growling gunfire in the distance,

slipping and stumbling down a muddy slope;

sinking and sliding- desperately grasping for a branch to keep you up

pupils round as cats' looking searching longing to find a tree with a number on it-

azimuths, mils, distance, this is only the first of many checkpoints to find,

here in the dark vegetation, with the moon your only friend, your compass your only help

every step into the dark into the blackness of a could-be-fall, heart thumping..

every once in awhile running into another shadow on his on trail, and hopefully asking : "anything here?"

affirmative or negative and then he trudges on into the bushes, and you carry on.

this lonely, this dirty, this dank.

but this must be done.

IF You can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you ;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or hated don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, not talk too wise:

IF you can dream- and not make dreams your master;

If you can think- and not make thoughts your aim,

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with worn out tools:

IF you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them "Hold on!"

IF you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings -nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is Earth and everything that's in it,

And which is more- you'll be a man my son!

-Rudyard Kipling

i don't actually have much to say about the past 9 weeks,

but all moments great and small serve their purpose and we are shaped by wind and fire,

and in these times we grow.

Cannot count the instances where i was sure i'd reach my utmost,

but its a point of pride that i never gave up and fell out.

and i found it really fascinating to meet all the different people with their varying perspectives and mindsets and motivations,

learning to adapt and finding your strengths and the things that break you.

and most of all,

gratitude to the many friends who offered advice and encouragement,

and family especially en who for some reason loves to wash my stuff including but not limited to my field back, iLBV, helmut, uniform, and has even tried his hand at polishing my boots.

also guonian for timely msgs and sagely advice, and the 2LT "Terror of Tekong" Jake, for visiting me, and buying macs into camp for me. Abby, for the many msgs i forget to reply.

" If friendship depends on things like space and time,

then when we finally overcome space and time,

we've destroyed our own brotherhood!

But overcome space and all we have left is Here.

Overcome time, and all we have left is Now.

And in the middle of Here and Now,

don't you think that we might see each other once or twice"

Everything is only for a day,

both that which remembers and

that which is remembered.

I've always ended my past years with a post reflecting on the year gone past,

but this years feels quite different.

Christmas and New Years came and went with hardly a whisper, but that's just one of those things about army.

booking out a day before these events deprives you of any time to absorb the mood or get into any holiday spirit.

still, the past 2 book outs were really enjoyable, spent with important people.

once again, i love the traditions we keep.

this year wasn't the most eventful of years i think, but it did mark the closing of one chapter, and the beginning of another... a change i did not particularly enjoy.

the first, graduation from TP was a bittersweet occasion, slightly more bitter i should think, given that i loved my student life and the people there. The second, enlistment into army.... painfully grim is how i would describe it. Honestly, there is really very little to be enjoyed about army, if at all. Truth be told, the next 2 years seem bleak, but i shall endeavor to be positive about it, hard as that may be.

In between graduation and army there was a fair bit of traveling, with my one month stay in cambodia being the most impactful and perhaps even moderately life-changing. An eye-opener too; why i feel amused when my army mates get irked by small spiders and lizards and rats.

last night was the first of many 21st parties, which is scary too, because we're all getting older.

this then, to end

to remind me that the needs of the world don't disappear quite as easily as the years do, but on the contrary, grow with every new year that springs.

also not to let my heart grow cold and anesthetized to the pain that plagues the world, often unseen and unheard of by people here in our air-conditioned nation.

The cambodian kids kites

because army takes away a lot of freedom, but perhaps its more the state of mind that is painful than the physical incarceration.

new years and new hopes

have fun stay nice!

My section's theme song we blast everyday

For those days we felt like a mistake
Those times when love's what you hate
Somehow
We keep marchin on

For those nights when I couldn't be there
I've made it harder to know that you know
That somehow
We'll keep movin on

There's so many wars we fought
There's so many things we're not
But with what we have, I promise you that
We're marchin on
We're marchin on
We're marchin on

For all of the plans we've made
There isn't a flag I'd wave
Don't care if we bend, I'd sink us to swim
We're marchin on
We're marchin on
We're marchin on

For those doubts that swirl all around us
For those lives that tear at the seams
We know
We're not what we've seen

For this dance we'll move with each other
There ain't no other step than one foot
Right in front of the other

There's so many wars we fought
There's so many things we're not
But with what we have, I promise you that
We're marchin on
We're marchin on
We're marchin on

For all of the plans we've made
There isn't a flag I'd wave
Don't care if we bend, I'd sink us to swim


We're marching on
We're marching on
We're marching on

Right, right, right left
Right, right, right left
Right, right, right
We're marching on

We'll have the days we break
And we'll have the scars to prove it
We'll have the bombs taht we save
But we'll have the heart not to lose it

For all of the times we've stopped
For all of the things I'm not

We put one foot in front of the other
We move like we ain't got no other
We go where we go
We're marchin on
Marchin on

There's so many wars we fought
There's so many things we're not
But with what we have, I promise you that
We're marchin on
We're marchin on
We're marchin on

Right, right, right left
Right, right, right left
Right, right, right
We're marchin on

it takes time to get into the festive mood and since i've been in camp for the past 19 days, i was a little stunned to realize on booking out that it was Christmas eve already.

a few weeks before i enlisted dad told us over lunch that his company was stopping the shuttle bus service for employees. our first instinct was to grumble about the company's stingy-ness and how long it'll take dad to travel to work now.

but dad was quite amused, and he told us that he never thinks about things that he cannot change. he straightaway jumps to thinking of how to adapt to the new changes, instead of wasting time in self-pity.

i think its a powerful mindset to adopt, one that really helps when you're in army, seeing how bad news comes all the time and any self-pitier would have no lack opportunities. skip the unhappiness, accept the change, move on.

the other best advice that i had was from a sergeant on the first day of enlistment : " you are a recruit, suck it up."  i think that once you accept this fact, things get easier.

i enjoyed christmas eve late night spent at the hiews, and last night at sam's. for all the griping about how we lost the feeling of christmas, i think it has less to do with the festivities, lights and music, and more to do with how people let their heart grow cold.  and i believe that christmas happens when it happens in your heart.

christmas is also a time of traditions, and i love the traditions i keep.

with that, the countdown to the end of this year begins

High as Helium, Dead as Disco
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
a few mornings ago i woke up abruptly with a golden snapshot lingering in my head it was a scene from when i was 8, a particular sunny day after our exams in school and all the kids from my class went out into the quadrangle to play with bubbles and fly the styrofoam planes we bought for a dollar from our teacher and what a lovely half an hour it was, 40 happy kids playing with simple toys on a sunny day when post-exams was the best time of your life. couldn't figure out why this dream would pop back into my head 13 years later on a random morning for no apparent reason. but i suspect that all of us keep these specially innocent times hidden away somewhere deep, and once in awhile when we're least expecting, our minds conjure them up to remind us how it feels to be young and uninhibited and completely carefree. perhaps most needed on tough days when life frustrates you and you wish growing up wasn't accompanied by painful lessons... 9:20 PM
Sunday, February 19, 2012
“So that's how we live our lives. No matter how deep and fatal the loss, no matter how important the thing that's stolen from us--that's snatched right out of our hands--even if we are left completely changed, with only the outer layer of skin from before, we continue to play out our lives this way, in silence. We draw ever nearer to the end of our allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off behind. Repeating, often adroitly, the endless deeds of the everyday. Leaving behind a feeling of immeasurable emptiness.” ― Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart 11:33 PM
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
one month since the christmas lights and the year is heating up with some interesting developments 8 months still seems an awful long time to go and this is a job which hangs nightmares on strings ready to snap at a moments notice and disastrous scenarios stand ready to unfold at the drop of a hat but the knowledge that it is so, and that there is absolutely nothing more i can do to avert these situations also brings a sense of peace because as i learnt over the past year, what cannot be helped should not be fretted over. take things as they come if you can envision the worst case scenario and the most painful of circumstances, then there is no longer the fear of the unknown and anything but that is a welcome bonus. they say that if you want to go fast, go alone but to go far, find a partner. well this isn't a journey, its a sprint to the end of these long 8 months. 11:57 PM
Thursday, January 19, 2012
when i think about it, these 1 year 10 months could be a whole lot smoother and easier but then i wouldnt remember much of it, except that it was smooth...and easy. but it being as challenging as it is, and the pressure that i face; i know that i won't forget these years, and that they don't run in vain. and as they say, these years go by with hardly any consequence on the rest of your life and screw-ups are confined to the moment you commit them, and then no more. No consequence save for.. the challenges that shape you, the people who teach you people the failures and hopelessness the creative problem solving with recognition comes expectation and the cycle is vicious and painful 10:58 PM
Saturday, January 07, 2012
11:56 PM
Monday, January 02, 2012
end year reflections i wonder if every year that goes by shapes who we are and if one year we reach an end stage where we are finally who we will always be and if this year is the year or the year our bodies stop growing does our character solidify too i wonder if in not keeping our traditions we inadvertently gives bits of ourselves away and we are always something new and finally when there is nothing new we are finally nothing i wonder if a person can be so emotionally detached from his life that it becomes a compilation of actions and if life can be physical and just physical and would that still be living i wonder if your body feels old because it really is and your mind feels old because your body thinks it is and is it cause and effect is it chicken and egg and if i keep telling myself i am getting younger instead will i find myself a child again. i wonder if this year has changed anyone's life forever, if something i did made a difference, and if its possible to live a year of life which has absolutely no impact on the rest of your life and could be edited out without consequence i wonder if this year was such a year. how do you measure character growth is it disturbing if you feel a conscious change in your psyche and your rough edges file smooth if you feel instead of being polished you are developing gritty sharp corners if a veneer of mirrors passing for armor snake across your skin every year is one step closer to who you're gonna be 11:47 PM
Sunday, December 18, 2011
i wonder if you ever walk the shadow paths that take you up the silent hill under an unsmiling moon on a night you flee flying from ghosts who take courage from the hearts of young men on battlefields bleeding bravery and brokenness too i wonder if you wander among the gravestones sidestepping the epitaphs of tragic dreamers whose ghosts match you step for step watching you with empty eyes that once held visions each gravestone is a memory and each memory a ghost each ghost is a vision Us visions, with our empty eyes and ethereal forms, we watch silently, as you make your way up the shadow paths. 9:09 PM
Sunday, December 11, 2011
i love this time of the year when the wind changes and the smell of the air changes and the gale blows cold. i like that the shopping malls play jingles and although i know its part of manipulating consumer psychology purchase behaviour, it works. its always about traditions. 11:03 PM
Monday, November 07, 2011
"The flirt is a very French speciality. You like to seduce, even for nothing. It's a good experiment to realize you have power over someone. The French consider la séduction to be one of the arts of living." —Carine Roitfeld (French Vogue) Love—why, I’ll tell you what love is: it’s you at seventy-five and her at seventy-one, each of you listening for the other’s step in the next room, each afraid that a sudden silence, a sudden cry, could mean a lifetime’s talk is over. - Brian Moore, The Luck of Ginger Coffey 9:59 PM

i confess that sometimes i find myself a little lost, and in moments being thus misplaced, am drawn into the doing of things which make me feel alive. sometimes its simply being new, or doing things that are unusual and perplexing out of character, but on more dangerous days i am wont to walk the thin lines of abominations, crossing the thresholds of the acceptable, dabbling in the devious. clinging to the precipice of propriety i breathe in the fumes of existence and feel the hole filling, filling, the gaps plugged. but you know, as i do, that the vacuum is never satisfied, the black hole can never be filled, never be made whole... so it takes more each time, the darkness that is drug the innocence that feeds it,,,,, it takes a little more each time. once in awhile i dream of people i used to know. randomly and totally uncalled for. they just appear in my head while i sleep and usually i remember these dreams. who i am i think, is largely harking back to who i've been. 1:14 AM
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
Words are beautiful because poetry comes from the soul. Pictures cheat because they come easy. The source of pictures are visual in nature, and what is seen is rarely as important as what is felt. Words come from the heart, a wellspring of memories which really means that because they cannot be seen they can very well be conjured out of ... really nothing at all. I like fiction because fiction is an escape and that is terribly empowering. 11:21 PM
Monday, October 31, 2011
i once read that guys have shorter life expectancies than women because they keep everything inside- their emotions and distress buried beneath a strong front. and its like grenades exploding in a room... nothing much can been seen from the outside, but the foundations are shaken, the earth is loosened , and soon the cracks will appear.... i confess that it bothers me a little, because its so true that guys bottle too much up- its our pride that kills us. and i keep imagining in my head some unseen tension that builds up in my body and will someday manifest in a magnificent heart attack and i will become a statistic of the "guys with short life expectancies". also because i spent all of this morning getting screamed at. cant be healthy. 10:49 PM
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
so you see how i'm dancing through time and the vapors are vipers and there really is no escape from the form that rages to be free which comes uneasily to me that holds on to the handrails of the sands of a depleted time. and even if with subdued grace the former returns to form the stitches remain undone, undone to the bone a cut, a slash, a gash a fallen comrade from a greater time a missing song by missing singers to placate the masses with a cut, a slash, a gash the bird is free today, yesterday, 3 years hence. it never returns. 10:54 PM
Friday, October 21, 2011
A Caution to Poets What poets feel, when they make, A pleasure in creating, The world, in its turn, will not take Pleasure in contemplating. —Matthew Arnold, from New Poems, 1867 10:38 PM
Monday, October 17, 2011
In the darkest depths of the deathliest dark, where fire and thunder torture the heart; where life is pain and disaster reigns.... and the eternal night repeats again. here where angels fear to tread and dreamers stay awake the blood of saints flow red; the loftiest brow yet grows afraid devoid of love and light but reeking of regrets that cut like knives and steal your sense of right like hooks that pull the hope from unsuspecting fish. this torrid tundra of tyranny drives the wise men mad evokes the most primal nightmares of the children who knew no nightmares bids surrender the knights of light who take flight at the sight of the dread foul beasts that patrol the lava streams of lake lachrymose which flows between mt despair and the forest of 10 000 tears(behind the path of scars) and in this miasma of broken glass and shattered hearts, songs are screams and some sing screams, in this end of the world, i keep my favourite memory of you. 9:10 PM
Sunday, October 02, 2011
sisterdiaries.tumblr.com 9:56 PM
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
2:14 PM
Thursday, September 22, 2011
6:05 PM
Monday, September 19, 2011
It Never Comes Again THERE are gains for all our losses, There are balms for all our pain, But when youth, the dream, departs, It takes something from our hearts, And it never comes again. We are stronger, and are better, Under manhood’s sterner reign; Still we feel that something sweet Followed youth, with flying feet, And will never come again. Something beautiful is vanished, And we sigh for it in vain; We behold it everywhere, On the earth, and in the air, But it never comes again. —Richard Henry Stoddard 6:34 PM
Sunday, September 18, 2011
the heart always brings you back on sat the family went to take a family portrait at a studio. more than a year since jie graduated from uni and i from poly, because we were waiting for dad to finish his masters this year. wearing the graduation gown again, i couldn't help but marvel at how life has changed since we graduated-it seems life a lifetime ago- and yet it still feels like it isn't over. only yesterday was the time of our lives, as dad never fails to remind me everytime we drive past tp. i don't think that growing up was ever quite so painful in our parents' day... but with our generation there is a heavy reluctance that pulls us back; the recognition that it doesn't get easier or better or happier with age. Age propels us forward whether or not we like it; nostalgia is the cord that binds us to our yesteryears. And then there's a subtle fear that our best years are behind us. so we take photographs. its a nod to the transience of our lives, an acknowledgement of our ephemeral natures, and a grim attempt to grasp the sands of time, hold frozen the moments we don't want to lose. at the end of the day the best of moments will still pass into silence, which is why the sincerity of photos are such a joy to behold. No matter how much has changed, they remind you of a perfect moment in time. we all have unspoken fear of losing things forever, coupled with the fear of change. I read that a person has 3 deaths. The first is when your heart and brain stops. Your body ceases to function and all that is warm turns soon cold and hard. Then begins to melt away. Your physical existence ends, the space you occupy on earth fades. The second is when your body is consigned to the ground, in a coffin, or an ash urn. Loved ones accept you gone, and similarly consign you to the corners of their hearts and minds set aside for the dearly departed. The last death we did is when our names are spoken for the last time, somewhere in the future. Perhaps a casual mention, an absent-minded recollection, an anecdote, but sooner or later, the day will come when henceforth, your name will not be spoken again. Then, the memory of your existence, in the minds of the living will be forever lost, and you will be truly dead. macabre thoughts indeed, but as they say, the heart always brings you back. 9:37 PM
Saturday, September 17, 2011
12:57 AM
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
on the eve of a show, though we are acting all the time waiting to book back to camp in awhile, its been pretty much like this the past week- booking out for a few hours, then back in. Learning to be unfazed interacting with big shots because rank is really nothing much to shout about. you tend to feel this way after prolonged exposure to undeserving rank holders. but really, its all about finding your meaning, fitting in (or not), surviving. i find it hard to fault some of my contemporaries for playing the game, and all the bootlicking and groveling that entails... its just their way of surviving after all... pusillanimous as it may be. and i play in my own way. i do my best (more or less), and so when complaint letters come (such as the one that appeared in CO's feedback box over the weekend), i am not unnerved... at the very least i stand ready to defend myself. the guilty sleep uneasy these nights. and the majors and colonels gossip about each other and then put on their smiley faces and make their small talk; they don't notice the specs watching them from the background and yes, they demand respect still.. TALENT is universally recognized, but so is incompetence. woe then is our organization which on so many levels overlooks both of these. just last week josh and i talked about how army kills many things in you. optimism, reason, motivation, and perhaps hope too. obviously it isn't like this throughout the system and i'm sure many of my friends out there are having the time of their lives (sarcasm unintended)... or at least find meaning in their work. strictly speaking, someone has to do what i do and there isn't a good reason why it shouldn't be me... but don't we always wish for something more? 9:49 PM
Sunday, September 04, 2011
Last year's hopes are this years apologies september comes around; somewhere across the world a thousand heartbeats quicken as a familiar dread creeps up- this month of infamy, a decade ago, the spirit of america was crushed in a day. and now 10 years later, the grief has ebbed leaving a familiar throbbing when this time of the year arrives, and they remember their dearly departed. these people, dreaming with broken hearts. for our NE excursion 2 days ago, we visited 3 places, culminating in a visit to the Kranji war memorial. Few people have ever been there, but its exactly my kind of place- the peace, the introspection, the intricately manicured lawns, perfectly lined gravestones marble white shining in the sun... but most of all, the captured emotion that sings out to anyone who would stop to listen; the thousands of visitors past who come from afar, making their pilgrimage to visit their lost loves buried defending singapore. I looked though the guest book and was moved by the messages left by visitors from australia and the uk, probably middle-aged now, come to visit the parents they last saw when they were kids, now buried in our soil. which is why i say, the gravestones sing of forgotten people, people missing people intensely, of young ones come to remember, old ones come to find peace, comrades come to see their fallen, and then there's us, from what i observed of my men i brought there- a generation of rather ungrateful brats, shunning the sunshine; playing among the stones, truly truly, lost. I was particularly jaded that afternoon; it had been a terribly frustrating day. But as i walked the lawn and read the inscriptions, a sort of awe came over me. This was a past era of heros and villains, a bygone time of bravery and selflessness, bloodshed fighting for ideals or survival, and the overwhelming tragedy is war. Men and women who died far from their homes with tears in theirs eyes, died defending what we have today, under a sun that did not shine for them. and the honorable gurkhas, whose families will never see them here, died anonymous, died fiercely brave, now silent. And where is the glory in that? one inscription read *" .... forever loved and missed by a heartbroken mother"* i thought that was terribly depressing. i particularly love the silence of it all because it holds so much meaning. Wars end, and the finality of it rests in silence of death. When all is said and done, the dust settles and the blood dries... the years will pass too quick and people will remember until they who remember are dead too but finally there will be a calming peace and life goes on as if brave blood was never spilt. I wish they could see what they fought to create. kranji war memorial but this entry is because as september pulls around, it reminds me that a year has gone by since i was in cambodia. this in itself would not mean much to anyone else but me. but because that one month left such an indelible imprint on my life, the fact that it has been so long but remains such a constant thread in my mind was somewhat surprising . some of the kids visited singapore last week and had dinner at my place, and those few hours brought me back to a year ago. An ordinary year would not have meant that much, but a year in the army is far more than a year without. Hearing their updates, it seems like so much has changed in the past year. Inevitably, this thread leads me to recall what i achieved there, how i viewed myself then, and how i view myself now. I say inevitable because when you meet someone you haven't seen in a long time, self-consciousness forces you to look at yourself through the eyes of the other party, and so you see how you have changed. i'd be lying if i said that what i saw then didn't worry me slightly. or a lot. again, i would be lying if i said that it was 100% due to the influence of army on my life. those 3 hours of dinner i spent watching myself, i saw the small almost imperceptible bits of my that i've cut away this past year, and the other coats that i've put on since then. all isn't lost yet, because as much as seeing the cambo kids makes me reflect on my flaws today, they also remind me of a time when i was greater, and the strength i think i have to change. After all, a year ago, i flew there in a rather messy emotional state, and there through my interactions with them found a long lost light. so, hope remains. so as september pulls up, i think about heros and past personas, forgotten people and change, and hope. its been a year 12:27 AM
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Chorus: Bring me home tonight can we leave for awhile you said come here child (Verse 1) This morning i woke and i wrote please god grant me the serenity/ to know whats gotten into me/ for me to look to the sky whenever i need that help/ for me to look towards god before i look towards myself/ you pulled me out of hell and uplift/ that put me on my way, on my pursuit of happiness/ underneath this exterior dorments something demonic/ solitary confinement dormints something psychotic/ got my back against the wall, up against the bricks/ on the edge of the surface which is digging into my skin/ knowing that this aint for me, its for them/ their drowning hopefully that one day their able to swin/ what this song needed was a voice which i gave/ like a rock struck by tidal waves/ how much more can i take of this before i break/ will this overcast fade or be the last i see the sun today. (Verse 2) Fixated on becoming this prodigy/ blinded not by the sun but blinded by this oddessy/ cause what i got to be is prophecy redirect my approach/ and to make sure in this game i go harder than most/ once the beast is provoked and with all that i am/ simply articulate, a prison of passion/ just a artist, a slave to the pen/ it only takes the slightest spark for the artist to be awaken/ when i’m awake i’m thinkin wield words from the cranium/ When i’ve got god impacts become spontaneous/ never asked for this, god must have something instore/ strike the lighter let my fire rekindle/ songs in my head waiting to form stanzas/ this may be the death of me but i’ll take my chances/ as the novice advices, lyrically inhances/ plunge this battlefield with spears, swords, and lances. 4:19 AM
Thursday, July 28, 2011
if life meant more i like birthdays designed for fuzzy warm feelings ... or wistful resignation, depending on which end of the age spectrum you arrive at. thankfully, im still in the first quadrant, enjoyable at least for now. i've come to believe that the two best époques are childhood and old-age (if you're healthy) . being a kid is joyful innocence, and learning about life and love and not quite seeing things as they are, just rose-tinted glasses and rainbows, holidays, crayons. and most of that is lost quite soon as youth rides by in a cloud of cigarette smoke on a Honda bike. lost in first-loves and first heart breaks, failures and distance and expectations and betrayal and pride. so learn your lessons early, or the next 30 years is a struggle to survive, and hit the terribly unrealistic goals you as a youth set for yourself- but lets face it- not every one of us will grow up to be rich and healthy and happily married. some of us will get sick, divorced, killed in accidents, broke, jailed... and every other manner of calamity we shut our minds to now (other than insurance-related purposes) and the education continues into adulthood- that no financial institution is infallible, nor any government, nor any other institution- those of marriage, family etc and many will carry these burdens into the final leg of their lives, which is a tragedy. their ghosts will stalk them into the sunset of their lives, bankrupting their hopes and taking their light until they are shells in perma catatonic states, wasting away in one of the many old-folk homes in singapore. but if they be blest, then they will find a balance in their lives, and success, and start to leave the striving to a younger generation, releasing their yokes little by little, and find their childhood again, returning to memorable paths once walked on tinier feet, lost loves and dreams unexplored. And discover new things, as only people who have nothing to lose can discover.most importantly, to make peace with the skeletons that remain, and the cobwebs of yesteryear that cast shadows on their twilight days...... here also some will scramble, upon realizing that time gathers momentum and their legs grow unsteady... and finding that their lies thus far have been empty pursuits and suits and chasing and striving... and completely meaningless. so comes charity and volunteering and milking the last drop of their energy to validate their lives, hoping that it meant something to someone.. until death comes, and their final victory is to lie still and silent, leaving behind legacies and stepping into the light knowing that life was not in vain. so i think childhood is the best- young or old. and i like birthdays, because jaded as i may be, they still remind me that i am blessed beyond what i deserve, more than i can hope for or dare to ask. hfsn 1:21 AM
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
the broken clock is a comfort 2am on a 8hr midnight till dawn, an enclosed room with nothing but machines for company and graveyard silence.. chilled by a cooling system designed with the machines in mind, so we dress for winter in here at the risk of sounding jaded (which i'm frequently told i advertise), i would venture to state that the challenges i face here are unprecedented ... both in scope and scale. and while the past 7 months have prepared me somewhat, life in an active (and frequently activated at that) unit is quite different. the lack of reason, the stubborness, and even the well-intentioned but poorly-advised intiatives.. also the respect that superiors will demand but never earn, the hierarchy which really is a glorified food-chain, and how sometimes its better to be the bottom than to be sandwiched somewhere in the middle with a semblance of authority but with no room to execute it efficiently. and then there is the satisfaction i secretly derived today after an incident which made me realize that regardless of how mild his personality, how kindly, how helpful, finally everyone really is selfish. and obviously this doesn't show easily for people who are generally nice... but one thing about the army is that it provides ample stressors that quite effectively strip away false pretences and forces a person to show exactly what he is. like a 48hr standby shift. and then even the nicest most accomodating chap is a war-machine, desperate to argue borrow beg steal kill to get out of it at the expense of anyone and usually,everyone. and this is why they say that the army is where Holiness goes to die, and i can say it is sadly quite an accurate statement, although not a definitive one. still, one grows and learns in such situations, and skills learnt here are as good as any other, and small acts of heroism are sporadically apparent. 2:10 AM
Saturday, July 23, 2011
my birthday letter from En To Adriel : Dear Ge, Happy 21st Birthday! Congrats, you are now an adult and i pray that you will continue to mature physically, mentally, and spiritually as you embark on the journey of adulthood. Too bad that i'm younger and i can't tell you about your birth like you told me about mine. Even if i did, you probably wouldn't believe me haha. It was really saddening that u could not follow us to Australia. there was a sense of 'emptiness' among us as we toured around. Wah how u type my letter so long sia idk what to say now...oh. Also stay close to God as when you are an adult you will have to make life-changing choices. Always make him part of your plans and never leave him ouy. Haha I know you know much more than me but i'm speaking for my innocence. ;) Thank you for occasionally bringing me out for movies, buying Daniel X: Watch The Skies by James Patterson for me, sharing your Garrett Popcorn with me. Thought i do not like to say thank you but deep down in my heart, i'm grateful. Also, I am happy that you are making an effort to come to church even though you always sleep late on saturday nights. And don't always stay up late outside, I second the parent's thoughts and sometimes are conscious for your safety. Anyways, you know martial arts so you are probably quite well-versed when killing your enemies. Congrats for completing almost 1 year of army! Endurance, endurance! Every day spent in army gives you 1/99% of your future six packs. Stay close to Him because I believe we is shaping you and moulding you into the person he wants you to be. I agree that Mom is indeed getting older, as she thinks her rheumatism is acting up. As their children, we must join hands and unite, only then we can overcome our obstacles and ensure the continuity of our kind. You are really really big now as compared to 21 years ago. Read you bible more, I always see it dusty and its like the same bible since 50 months ago under your stack of magazines! Haha. You look really cute when you march at your various POP's. Continue to always read the newspapers and books, setting a good example for me. I love your hair sometimes. I know army life is tough and i will be glad to support you in any way possible. Thank you for all the advice in the letter for my birthday. Hmm... in conclusion, always stay close to Him, all the best for the next many months in the army, God bless you and i pray that God will see you through your whole adulthood. Time really flies and you are 21 already. I adore you for not making this a need for a big celebration, like Jie's HORT PARK (FLOWER ROOM SEED ROOM) HAHA. But most importantly, it is the heart feeling that you're 21 and earthly things do not matter. Okay, I know that my letter isn't that good cause i don't write to girls.(like you) :) Haha I also know my sentencing sucks, vocabulary etc sucks but its the though that counts! HAPPY BIRTHDAY AND GOD BLESS AS YOU VENTURE INTO ADULT HOOD! 21 July 2011 7:16pm (sorry its rushed) Thursday CRAP YOU'RE CALLING NOW BYE! DANIEL EN 2:02 AM
Tuesday, July 05, 2011
comfortable so instead of sleeping with one eye open and walking tightropes, i'd much rather be reclining in a dim-lit room listening to classical music and tasting whiskey. but then so do most people. but i'm learning, and only in extreme situations do you learn new things about yourself. like how i've learnt that i'm actually bad at concealing my feelings, contrary to what i've always believed. twice in the past month i've been told by trainers that my expressions make it very clear what i think of them. so not as stoic as i thought then. and these are precious lessons that teach me how to better live my life. and in these times the world revolves around a few simple things, re-classified into simple missions and objectives that must be attained. leave emotion out of the equation, and then really, its all about mental endurance. also, i've been contemplating my relationships with people, and the dysfunction which has set in by no conscious choice of mine, a shadow that extended from ghosts of years long past. and i wonder where they are now, and if life is everything they wanted it to be, since the last time we looked eye to eye. 10:27 PM
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
this castle is a fortress for your heart the thing about being a solider- as least one in combat- is that it pushes you to explore limits of yourself that you never knew existed. and only after you have crossed the peak and look back across the plains you have traversed, that you think yo yourself "wow, that was a dark place i was in" you can't quite remember what got you through, or wherefrom the strength you drew, but that you are here today where you are is a testament to your ability to survive. and that is always worth celebrating. Steel Wall last week was an unprecedented challenge, because i did not expect that we'd be put under such strain because of the nature of our vocation. One thing i've recognized these past 7 months as a soldier is that under intense duress, the voice that screams impossibility and surrender is a powerful force. And every cog in your brain turns to rationalize giving up and giving in, until hanging on or moving forward seems almost foolish. As fatigue and lack of sleep overwhelm, these mental and emotional struggles grow more frequent and the arguments harder to win. I was like that last week, after sleeping 4/65 hrs, and my argument was that the commanders were unreasonable to expect so much, they did not understand our physical limits, their planning was flawed etc But then the other thing i've learnt is that with every decision you make to press on, you build mental strength, and the longer you hold on, the sillier it becomes to give up before the race is won. and again, in the darkest moment, still there remain small pockets of peace to find. i have lain exhausted on the grass after striking down and rebuilding a 400sandbag weapons emplacement at 2am, and then looked into a star-filled sky and for a moment forgotten my fatigue and enjoyed a moment of serenity. on sat night i heard a tragic love story, which isn't as uncommon as it should be nowadays. thing is, we cannot choose who we love, or vice versa, but our actions are always conscious choices. and i think love- even true love- cannot be blamed for the foolishness we perpetuate, or the people we hurt in the name of it. and because of this, hate springs from love and from deep love spawns rancorous hate. 4:00 PM
Monday, May 23, 2011
between reality and a few days ago i had a weirdass dream. i like the feeling of dreams ending. i rarely wake with a start; its usually the sensation of tug-of-war between reality and dreams.. it feels a little like inception. my dream is a perfect world albeit one without rules and reason, an upside down world without gravity or consequence. but we never realize the impossobility of our dreams until we see them in retrospect. and then as your mind slowly awakens, you begin to process things with a rational mind; paint peels, cracks appear in the walls, a black hole begins to swallow and suck and with piercing revelation you suddenly see that this cannot be, and it is not your world; this is a dream ergo you must be asleep. the sensation is akin to that of surfacing in a pool, rushing upwards toward a light, leaving a swirling whirlpool of grey mess behind, breaking the surface, and then i open my eyes and i am in my bed and it is saturday morning. 9:35 PM
Monday, May 09, 2011
Second Place Victory I was thinking about Mr Chiam and how he must have felt that night. I always feel more for the lesser characters, those whose grief are not trumpeted to the world. I wonder how he would have felt, his failed gamble, and perhaps more at the loss of his party in his longtime fortress. did he feel betrayed, at the 50% that jumped ship, did he regret venturing out, did he feel like this was an unfitting end? 4:39 PM
Thursday, May 05, 2011
the trial of the ingrate what annoys me is that at the end of the day, people are just unable to recognise how blessed they are to have what they have. and they fail to recgognise that there will always be trade-offs no matter what government you have. but the nature of humans is such- to ever search for a nom-existent perfect, wallow in perpetual discontent, and whine whine whine. its the shallow idealistic who think themselves well-read - they've heard the whispers of criticism from the west about freedom of press and speech, and fancy themselves freedom fighters for a glamorous cause. if they were truly informed, they would see the miracle that is our govt, and how rare it is to find. virtually scandal-free, incorruptible, and intelligent above all. i support the policy of fielding only the best and most intelligent. its the igonorant who believe that a government can be made up of people running on passion. fact is, it takes careful study and in-depth knowledge to craft policies, an intricate understanding of economics and cost-benefit analyses. so far, the opposition talks and talks but fails to give plausible alternatives. everyone of the manifestos are riddled with feel-good alternatives that would appeal on a superficial level, but it doesnt take much analysis to realize the deeply flawed "solutions". not to mention the reputation of our country to the international community. doesnt bode well for our generation if we comprise an electorate that votes the unqualified and unthinking into power. i like a comment i read by someone who attended a rally and observed that the crowds cheered wildly everytime the opposition speakers derided the pap, but soon fell silent when the speaker started proposing alternatives. they fight by appealing to emotions and play on people's dissatisfaction, without proposing anything worthy in exchange. 11:12 AM
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
The Powers that Be it's easy to criticize from the comfort of your armchair, in the house you own, on internet infrastructure not found in many countries, on phones, laptops, and other forms of technology that put you in the top 10 percen of the world's rich. it's easy to criticize the architects of our systems, easy to fault them for the tough decisions they've made, the people they've hurt, wrongly or rightly. it's easy to forget how rare good leaders are, easy to be greedy for cheap ideals, greedy for what the western press pressures us to think we need, greedy for the promises offered by a few newcomers. what is not as easy is giving credit where credit is due, recognizing quality, taking pride in their achievements, and giving your support as an encouragement to do better. it's not as easy. their flaws abound, arrogance and monetary blackmail and bribery or sorts too. they don't often listen , if at all, and can be merciless in incapacitating dissenters. but i think it takes one with foresight to realize the wisdom of their approaches to many issues past, and their (our) results speak the volumes that the naysayers don't. look past flaws to see the potential for growth, pay no heed to the whining and tired rhetoric of an opposition that stumbles over itself and provides alternatives that cannot be reasonably supported by actions- untried and idealistic, pandering to the emotions of citizens who cannot tell the feasible and untenable apart. i do not support the government becase it gave me $600, i support them because their stewardship of my country puts it in the enviable position of being able to expand billions in payouts to its citizens. that speaks more to me than silly suggestions to close the casinos and shorten ns, cut the infantry, let go of manufacturing. 8:58 PM

cogito ergo sum i have an agnes b bracelet that has the label 'think' . i got it because the theme resonated with me- too many people go through life not contemplating their actions and decisions, and one of my pet peeves are people who have low situational and self-awareness. but recently i've begun to think that there really isnt that much value in the consideration we give things after all. questions beget questions, and answers are rarely final. some of the most enlightened people i know choose to breeze through life whistling 'carpe diem' , ignorant of the world around them. there is value in that too, and perhaps all this thinking about thinking is merely overthinking. 8:41 PM
Monday, May 02, 2011
le chevalier mal fet Tous les méchants sont buveurs d'eau; C'est bien prouve par le déluge [The wicked are great drinkers or water, as the flood proved once and for all] high-handed and arrogant was never really an issue with me, because it was done on a scaffold of superior intellect and experience. A proven track record and august credentials lend authority to the tone by which the incumbent chastised the hopeful. but this time round they seem to have fallen to cheap tactics of mudslinging and name-smearing, nitpicking and personal attacks. perhaps the prospect of real challenge and loss this time pushes them to desperate measures, and their near panic and insecurity shines through amidst the aspersions they cast across the river. but that's politics for you, more often than not a race to uncover dirt and scandal, and less often a contest of superior decision making and policy crafting. i had hoped we would be different, but recent events prove disappointing, even the most austere of personalities fail to maintain the dignity of political jousting. and... why do our politicians speak so poorly? also, i'm and increasing less social, the past few book outs have been spent at home, reading in a silence or to 92.4. a growing partiality to classical music, i think i am falling old. 4:31 PM

samurai when the modern guy lacks i think, are the olde worlde attributes that used to define manliness. Hardly any guy i know, myself included, still posses that kind of charm and chivalry that used to be so prized a trait in men. gentlemanliness, i think is the single most lacking trait in men, especially asian men. we just don't have it in our culture. more than opening doors and pulling out chairs, its a respect for others, old and young, both male and female, and includes an element of selflessness too. And really, thats the hardest part. Perhaps we are no longer knights because ladies are hardly distressed damsels anymore, , or perhaps chivalry died somewhere in between feminism and modernization .... but it would still be charming if men still behaved the way they used to back in the day. and also it would be nice to wear hats and tip them at passing ladies. 2:50 AM
Saturday, April 30, 2011
I was 19 then I was 20, but that too is ending earlier today dad was commenting about how sad it was that children no longer play in the sun. he was referring to one of those olden-style funfairs that had been set up outside century square. he mentioned how when he was a kid , children went crazy over those rides and begged their parents to take them. but little kids these days tote ipads and iphones and shrink away from sun and sweat, not to say old rickety rides that can hardlly rival the glory of the universal studios, roller coasters. but i think even in the young people today, there is a yearning for things of the past, a curiosity about the days of old, the sunshine days of our parents' bygone era. i always feel a little sad for the operators of those old funfairs, because they fight a losing battle, against the giants of technology and novelty and a ever changing definition of fun. who would have known that someday , children would no longer love the sun? 6:56 PM
Sunday, April 17, 2011
between the sand and an everlasting moonbeam so what happened was that on friday an hour before book out, it suddenly struck me that i wasn't nearly as excited/pleased about it as i used to be about my station now- a strange experience, a mix of motivation and demotivation, constantly torn between extreme action and simultaneous malaise, languid body and inert mind. and an overwhelming and inescapable notion that all pleasure (if any) is ephemeral. i cannot say i hate it, nor can i say i live inspired. but as in all things, i find that pondering these things is meaningless, to borrow from the ecclesiastical theme. and perhaps there is no fault in merely existing, floating, spinning in and out of purpose and detachment. many things are made more bearable. which of course has consequences. but still. truth.beauty.freedom.love. also, the frustrating lack of intelligence. 6:52 PM
Sunday, April 10, 2011
sunshine happy birthday cons, some things will always keep changing, other things once established never alter. 1:23 AM
Sunday, March 27, 2011
tilting at windmills The world seems to be burning tonight, if you close your eyes you can almost hear the wails from the other side of the world. in our little paradise we remain most isolated, with nary a whisper of wind, the rush of a wave. but i think that the tremors reach us in subtle waves, the trepidation of things to come, a sense of our frailty; the fragility so easily shattered. and often i stop and wonder, by what blessing did we deserve this peace, untouched by disaster or storm, an oasis impervious to the plagues of the world? i'm reading Hard Truths, and LKY's mind truly is most remarkable. The depth of his thinking, the steel of his resolve. but more than that, i've developed an appreciation for the miracle that is our country, and the many paths we could have taken that would have led us to doom; our mere existence a stroke of fortune, most assuredly divine providence, and yes, excellent leadership. but on a softer note, the 2nd last section recounts his youthful days and experiences which he holds dear, one of them being his cambridge days with his wife, posing for a photo taken by ex-CJ YPH in their youth. and with a tinge of nostalgia he says that in the 90s he revisited the place, but in his words, "it was a different cambridge, we were different people, and it was a rainy day. so that's that" and that struck a chord with me because i am wont to sentimentality and often find myself trying to relive days past, places past, people past. and the truth is that most of these moments come once and never again, for a fleeting moment that embeds itself in your memory indelible. and you can go back, but it'll always be different people, different place, different time. in the words of a fellow cadet, "this is life. accept it." 8:01 PM
Sunday, March 20, 2011
these boots not made for walking last night out with B and R was a small step into memory lane- it seems like forever since that fateful night we went night cycling - and other good times like ubin and bangkok too.. and it hasn't been that long, just a coupla years, but life is not categorized into life pre-army and life now and pre-army seems like a lifetime ago. and don't we all miss those days army life has been an exercise in enlightenment, seeing the world , bubbles bursting, lenses lifted, and the not-insignificant frustrations that accompany trying to find people of similar mind. but mostly, freedom is a concept you never fully grasp until you no longer have it and to a minuscule extent i understand the torture of prison. but the trick is to keep breathing, to take things week by week, hour by hour, minute by minute, just keep breathing. 6:51 PM
Sunday, March 06, 2011
The truth is a dark cave The corruption begins slow, a quiet whisper- a suggestion. An exchange of views, why nots, turning to look the other way A little compromise, the devil does not immediately reveal itself; the days wear on, the nights are long, but the facade maintains for now.. till the cracks appear in the wall, a slip here and fumble there, friendly reminders from the past that pull you back, you hesitate- for a moment the flames abate till with a vengeance, the wave is a whirlpool, a hurricane the breeze becomes; disgust is the face in the stained mirror and you walking the walk of shame like so many before you but you will not stop until you hit the wall because the dark is a comfort not easily surrendered and you know the hurt it brings and you bear the crushing weight.. but until your bones are dust gold chains fall to rust, i know you will not stop. 8:41 PM
Saturday, February 26, 2011
my heart breaks tonight, knowing that those days have ended, and soon enough a new season will begin, where people will be choosing and chosen, a time of pain and separation, letting go, and at least 2 of us wishing that we could go back to our youthful innocent days when we did not know such pain. 11:27 PM
Sunday, February 06, 2011
it scares me a little, how the days fly by didn't there use to be a longer interval between christmas and the new year? i felt like i'd just done CNY visiting, and here we are at the same once-a-year houses again. how did 2010 fly by? but, i feel like taking a holiday now, enjoy the breeze somewhere i don't need to march, sing a real song, feel like i'm free. eat some real food, think of nothing, not worry about the clock that ticks and the alarm which rings tells me its time to book in for another week, not easy to find life, enthusiasm or individuality and i think i've been a little more social than usual but that's just a by-product of deprivation the lack of social interaction and if my words come disjointed i don't think i can be faulted for we become what we surround ourselves with still here i am, waiting for inspiration, something to make sense of this rote. nonetheless, over and above, beyond the furthest, in all things, still, as they so like to say, all we ar e we a re. 1:28 AM
Sunday, January 30, 2011
navigation compass test wet grass beneath your feet; rumbling of growling gunfire in the distance, slipping and stumbling down a muddy slope; sinking and sliding- desperately grasping for a branch to keep you up pupils round as cats' looking searching longing to find a tree with a number on it- azimuths, mils, distance, this is only the first of many checkpoints to find, here in the dark vegetation, with the moon your only friend, your compass your only help every step into the dark into the blackness of a could-be-fall, heart thumping.. every once in awhile running into another shadow on his on trail, and hopefully asking : "anything here?" affirmative or negative and then he trudges on into the bushes, and you carry on. this lonely, this dirty, this dank. but this must be done. 3:18 PM
Sunday, January 16, 2011
IF IF You can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you ; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, not talk too wise: IF you can dream- and not make dreams your master; If you can think- and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn out tools: IF you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them "Hold on!" IF you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings -nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is Earth and everything that's in it, And which is more- you'll be a man my son! -Rudyard Kipling i don't actually have much to say about the past 9 weeks, but all moments great and small serve their purpose and we are shaped by wind and fire, and in these times we grow. Cannot count the instances where i was sure i'd reach my utmost, but its a point of pride that i never gave up and fell out. and i found it really fascinating to meet all the different people with their varying perspectives and mindsets and motivations, learning to adapt and finding your strengths and the things that break you. and most of all, gratitude to the many friends who offered advice and encouragement, and family especially en who for some reason loves to wash my stuff including but not limited to my field back, iLBV, helmut, uniform, and has even tried his hand at polishing my boots. also guonian for timely msgs and sagely advice, and the 2LT "Terror of Tekong" Jake, for visiting me, and buying macs into camp for me. Abby, for the many msgs i forget to reply. " If friendship depends on things like space and time, then when we finally overcome space and time, we've destroyed our own brotherhood! But overcome space and all we have left is Here. Overcome time, and all we have left is Now. And in the middle of Here and Now, don't you think that we might see each other once or twice" Everything is only for a day, both that which remembers and that which is remembered. 5:59 PM
Sunday, January 02, 2011
I've always ended my past years with a post reflecting on the year gone past, but this years feels quite different. Christmas and New Years came and went with hardly a whisper, but that's just one of those things about army. booking out a day before these events deprives you of any time to absorb the mood or get into any holiday spirit. still, the past 2 book outs were really enjoyable, spent with important people. once again, i love the traditions we keep. this year wasn't the most eventful of years i think, but it did mark the closing of one chapter, and the beginning of another... a change i did not particularly enjoy. the first, graduation from TP was a bittersweet occasion, slightly more bitter i should think, given that i loved my student life and the people there. The second, enlistment into army.... painfully grim is how i would describe it. Honestly, there is really very little to be enjoyed about army, if at all. Truth be told, the next 2 years seem bleak, but i shall endeavor to be positive about it, hard as that may be. In between graduation and army there was a fair bit of traveling, with my one month stay in cambodia being the most impactful and perhaps even moderately life-changing. An eye-opener too; why i feel amused when my army mates get irked by small spiders and lizards and rats. last night was the first of many 21st parties, which is scary too, because we're all getting older. this then, to end to remind me that the needs of the world don't disappear quite as easily as the years do, but on the contrary, grow with every new year that springs. also not to let my heart grow cold and anesthetized to the pain that plagues the world, often unseen and unheard of by people here in our air-conditioned nation. The cambodian kids kites because army takes away a lot of freedom, but perhaps its more the state of mind that is painful than the physical incarceration. new years and new hopes have fun stay nice! 2:33 AM
Sunday, December 26, 2010
My section's theme song we blast everyday For those days we felt like a mistake Those times when love's what you hate Somehow We keep marchin on For those nights when I couldn't be there I've made it harder to know that you know That somehow We'll keep movin on There's so many wars we fought There's so many things we're not But with what we have, I promise you that We're marchin on We're marchin on We're marchin on For all of the plans we've made There isn't a flag I'd wave Don't care if we bend, I'd sink us to swim We're marchin on We're marchin on We're marchin on For those doubts that swirl all around us For those lives that tear at the seams We know We're not what we've seen For this dance we'll move with each other There ain't no other step than one foot Right in front of the other There's so many wars we fought There's so many things we're not But with what we have, I promise you that We're marchin on We're marchin on We're marchin on For all of the plans we've made There isn't a flag I'd wave Don't care if we bend, I'd sink us to swim We're marching on We're marching on We're marching on Right, right, right left Right, right, right left Right, right, right We're marching on We'll have the days we break And we'll have the scars to prove it We'll have the bombs taht we save But we'll have the heart not to lose it For all of the times we've stopped For all of the things I'm not We put one foot in front of the other We move like we ain't got no other We go where we go We're marchin on Marchin on There's so many wars we fought There's so many things we're not But with what we have, I promise you that We're marchin on We're marchin on We're marchin on Right, right, right left Right, right, right left Right, right, right We're marchin on it takes time to get into the festive mood and since i've been in camp for the past 19 days, i was a little stunned to realize on booking out that it was Christmas eve already. a few weeks before i enlisted dad told us over lunch that his company was stopping the shuttle bus service for employees. our first instinct was to grumble about the company's stingy-ness and how long it'll take dad to travel to work now. but dad was quite amused, and he told us that he never thinks about things that he cannot change. he straightaway jumps to thinking of how to adapt to the new changes, instead of wasting time in self-pity. i think its a powerful mindset to adopt, one that really helps when you're in army, seeing how bad news comes all the time and any self-pitier would have no lack opportunities. skip the unhappiness, accept the change, move on. the other best advice that i had was from a sergeant on the first day of enlistment : " you are a recruit, suck it up." i think that once you accept this fact, things get easier. i enjoyed christmas eve late night spent at the hiews, and last night at sam's. for all the griping about how we lost the feeling of christmas, i think it has less to do with the festivities, lights and music, and more to do with how people let their heart grow cold. and i believe that christmas happens when it happens in your heart. christmas is also a time of traditions, and i love the traditions i keep. with that, the countdown to the end of this year begins 4:55 PM