Remember

Whoops. Suddenly remembered you spent last count down in tekong. Have a good celebration this year. Yupp and i received your card. Its kinda hilarious and thanks haha.

It's always heartening to know that people still remember you. Even after one year later.

One year on, my BMT section mate Jingjie spontaneously sent me the above SMS telling me how he has remembered about me. At the recent class Christmas party, Jia Wei also recalled how he attempted to wave at me during his own countdown at Changi Beach while I was stuck at Pulau Tekong watching Channel 5's countdown programme in my company's Annex Room.

Guard duty.

On a positive note, how many of you are that privileged as to be able to countdown on Pulau Tekong? I'm sure at least the girls will never ever have the chance to do so.

It's always a heart-warming affair to know that you are still being remembered, to know that people still think about you, because it means that you are of importance to them and worth a place in their hearts.

Human beings hate changes, because changes are synonymous to disruptions in their memories. It's like your iTunes unable to locate your MP3 files and play your favourite songs because you had changed their locations while the shortcuts on your iTunes playlist are still linked to the previous locations of the music files. Whenever an event happens that would modify something that is already deeply rooted in your memory, your response would be like your iTunes -- confusion. A pop-up window would appear, alerting you the disappearance of your music files. Then you get frustrated, because now in order to listen to these songs you have to relocate the files and alter the shortcuts on your playlist.

Sometimes it's an uphill task because you got over one thousand song files in your folder and you just simply cannot locate that particular song file.



I was informed only recently that my primary school, Peixin Primary, is merging with Yishun Primary School. The infrastructure remains, albeit with some new additions to it, but gone are the school name, school logo, school anthem and school song. Peixin Primary School will no longer be found on the next edition of the street directory or Yellow Pages. I must now accept the fact that I came from Yishun Primary School ( former Peixin Primary School), and that my future juniors will no longer wear the light pink top and maroon bottoms as uniforms.

I used to think that pink and maroon looks really gay and disgusting. But now it is what I call "fashion" in comparison to the new hideous-looking yellow-and-brown "failure".

Outraged. Disappointed. But most importantly, I feel helpless.

There's nothing I can do to stop the merger. I have no valid reason to protest. I am merely a selfish citizen who wishes to preserve his own memory and identity. Perhaps the pooling of resources can maximise benefits for the next generation; perhaps it's for urban development; perhaps it's a small attempt to help the bleak economy. What I know is that I am on the losing end.

All former Peixinians are on the losing end.




Coincidentally, I got news from my JC junior that Hwa Chong is implementing certain revamp to the school too. Our beloved students' lounge, more affectionately known as Fishtank, will vanish. Replacement is still not made known.

There will be changes to the entire canteen since there is a change of the canteen operator. My beloved eel rice from that Japanese food stall will cease to exist; ditto for Xiao Mi Mi （笑咪咪） economical rice stall; even Candy Yong Tau Foo has to go.

The bookshop auntie is evicted from the school too. She's probably the biggest loser from this revamp saga. Not only did she receive very little notification of the termination of her lease, the school did not even take into consideration of her many years with Hwa Chong. To think that Hwa Chong has always boast itself to have a warmth and amicable environment, the sheer coldness that the administration has given to the bookshop auntie is indeed an apt illustration of what the term "irony" truly means.

Whatever happened to 人情味？ We've lost that inthis incident. We probably had lost it long ago, long before I could even realise.

原本弥漫整个华中校园的浓浓人情味，似乎早已飘散了。取而代之的，是人性里最冰冷绝情的贪婪与市侩。看来再伟大的治校使命与原则，也抵挡不过金钱利益上的诱惑。讽刺，讽刺啊！

A lot of pop-ups are now flashing in my mind. "WHere's Peixin Primary?", "Where's Fishtank?", "Where's my eel rice?", "Where's the pink uniforms?", "How to sing the Peixin school anthem?", "Where's Candy yong tau foo?"...

And then my system hangs.

Platoon Mates

Sometimes I am glad that my NS days are ending in less than a year's time. Because I can't stand living with my platoon mates any longer.

Don't get me wrong. I don't detest them. Okay, I don't detest most of them. The majority of them are nice people whom I can talk to and work with. Can I live with them? I don't think so. They are nice people, without a doubt, but that's about it. There are no more plus points in them. I don't foresee myself keeping in touch with most of them. I don't foresee any of them becoming my closest friends.

They are still nice people, but to me they will remain as acquaintances.

There are a few detestful and despicable people in the platoon. Like the miser one who even attempted to cheat my change for the mahjong money that I lost to him, whom I've featured a few times in my blog (just to let him have a taste of his own medicine of being so petty about little things, of which he has written 5 entries in his journal harping on one particular issue that involves his pen being borrowed for the benefit of the whole platoon but never got returned to him (but then again my case is a serious one involving one's integrity and morals, so it deserves more feature)).

Then we have a worm-eating (literally), prawn shell-consuming (literally!) and chicken bone-devouring (really literally!) freak who suffers from hormonal imbalance, mood swings and probably inferiority complex about his scholastic achievements and weight and thinks that everyone but himself is a loser when in actual fact it's vice versa. Let's call him boy W.

Boy W suffers from depression and hormonal disorder. I'm not being sarcastic. That's in his medical records. I do feel sorry for him sometimes, because I feel that his illnesses are probably the cause of his asshole-like behaviour.

I would say that the only good thing he has done to this platoon is to unify all of us, who came from vastly different family backgrounds, social circles and BMT companies. But in doing so, he harms people too, for his attempt to bond us together involves the creation of a common enemy and the constant perpetuation that this chosen target is threatening, imbecilic or virtually useless. Arguably, he has succeeded, because his strategy did manage to divert our attention from the physically-streneuous and mentally-laborious trainings and ridiculously-high expectations our superiors have on us.

Yet, he constantly creates a new target for everyone, and soon he will be running out of target.

And never did he ever realise that the joke is now on him. His foil has backfired. Now everyone's against him. And it took most of us almost a year to realise that the reason why we have never been able to bond together cohesively was due to the actions one sole person. But better late than never.

You never know what other tricks does he have up in his sleeves. He's like a walking time-bomb, how can you ever cohabit with such person?

Then you realise that you sleep in between probably the two messiest persons on this planet. Sleeping on your left is someone whose nasal problems would wake up from your deepest sleep every single night without fail; on your right is someone whose personal space looks like the exact replica of the Afghan warzone -- footwear peppered all over the place, random plastic bags in an array of colours hovering around, an assortment of clothings strewn all over his bed, and even on the floor, that probably hasn't been mopped for one month already.

Speaking of which, no one in my bunk ever mops the floor. Either they just couldn't be bothered, or they are merely allergic to detergent. I'm always the one mopping the floor. In fact, I'm probably the only one in this platoon truly concern about the cleanliness of our living environment. Perhaps due of that, they don't see a need for them to clean their lodging -- there's an idiot who will do it, so why should I take the initiative? Not that I mind being the idiot (for now, at least), but sometimes I do get exhausted and frustrated too, especially when certain people just can't seem to comprehend the importance and relevance of not moving around and walking across the tiles when they aren't completely dried from my mopping.

Other than that, we still can click quite well, but I know that they are merely acquaintances, for now. I always dread going back to bunk because it means that I have to go through the ordeal of cohabiting with them for another cycle. We probably can work together with much chemistry, but if you want me to live with them again in the same room for university, I wouldn't hesistate to say no. The rest of them probably wouldn't want me to be their roommates again. I mean, who would want to be nagged at again for their untidy habits and their lack in initiatives in helping out with the household chores?

Comfort

There's something about familiarity that is so comforting and reassuring.

I always love gatherings of all sorts. Well, almost all sorts. I still find family gatherings pretentious and quite a chore for me to attend.

Gatherings with your ex-clasmates are, however, pleasurable. Especially when all of us were very close with one another.

Just seeing them in their current state is enough to make my day. I guess we all still miss each other's company. We still love each other. It brings you back to a state which you have gone through before. It's familiar, something which you know about, something which you are confident about, and something which you like a lot.

It's a state which you feel safe to let your guard down, to be surrounded by pure, innocent, (hopefully)everlasting friendships.

Merry Christmas

鸡尾酒

往血腥玛丽里挤了柠檬汁和一滴
泪。
咸咸的辛酸，调配
特别。喝下肚，
有种似曾相识。

夜宴

舞动的人群，
血液里流窜着酒精的脉搏。
酒精在热情的躯体里蒸发，
蒸发的人们飘上舞台，随着节奏。
人们随着节奏，在每一次的心跳，
挥洒，挑衅的汗水。

狼藉的酒杯，
曾经是人群快乐的泉源。
玻璃酒杯里的冰块冻结
烦恼，还没解冻。才刚过午夜12点，
沸腾的酒精溶化了躯体之间的隔阂。
隔阂，是酒保在妒嫉我们的快乐。

舞池洒满的霓虹灯，是
性玩具挑逗肉体的神经。
他的脸孔霓虹绿，你的面容紫红色。
舞台上的我们，彼此之间3公分距离，
迷着眼眸，仰起头。
高潮。在Bum Bum De Dum Bum Bum De Dum Bum的挑拨下，
嘴巴咀嚼粉红色的丸子。

飨宴几时结束？
我只晓得，
红与蓝色的灯光闪耀，外加刺耳的喇叭声。
让我再次体验鼻腔被呛着和食道被灼伤。

Kindness Doesn't Pay

The squadron decided to screen the 2000 movie "Pay It Forward" as part of our Christmas celebrations.

The movie is about how this 7th grade student, Trevor, came up with an idea of "paying it forward", as a response to his Social Studies assignment. The idea is that he will, within his capability, help three people around him, and these three people must help another three people in their lives. Those who are helped must then helped another three people on thier own so as to spread the kindness around.

It started off as a overly-utopian vision to change the world, to make the world a better place. No one thought that the concept would succeed. Not even Trevor. But it did. It started off in Las Vegas, then the movement spread to Los Angeles, then to Phoenix, and across America.

But in the end, the founder of this "Pay It Forward" movement was murdered, ironically, when he was trying to rescue his friend from the school bullies. He was stabbed in his abdomen.

It certainly didn't pay off for him.

I was watching "The Little Nyonya" the night before.



Yuzhu (Joanne Peh) tried to free Yueniang (Jeanette Aw) so that she can elope with Chen Xi (Qi Yu Wu), the man whom she truly loves and not be forced to marry Liu Yidao, a crazy fellow whom Yueniang doesn't fancy and yet insists that Yueniang to follow his mother's wishes of marrying him.

Coincidentally, villian Robert Zhang was attracted by the beauty of Yueniang when he saw her locked in her own room (to prevent her from escaping), so he tried to get fresh with her, but instead Yuzhu laid on Yueniang's bed as she thought that one of her evil family members was trying to check on Yueniang. Never did she expect herself to fall pray to Robert Zhang.

Worse still, Robert Zhang's outrage of Yuzhu's modesty was witnessed by her own sister, Zhenzhu, who chose to ignore the incident as she wanted to marry Chen Xi, who was initially forced to marry Yuzhu.

It's hard for me not to draw the connection, after watching "Pay It Forward" and "The Little Nyonya", that being kind doesn't pay. Trevor dided while trying to save his friend from bullying; Yuzhu got raped while helping Yueniang to escape from a forced marriage.

It's disheartening. I don't know whether or not to lose faith in humanity. Nice people may win reality TV shows, but that's about it. In real life, being nice doesn't bring you far, neither does being nice reward you.

I know the act of helping shouldn't be tagged with a reward. But neither do I want myself to suffer from miseries and misfortunes despite continuous efforts in helping others. It is just unfair.

Look, even an extremely stingy person who refuse to even treat his friends can win big money during several mahjong games, how fair is that? Till now, he has never ever bought something for any of us in the platoon. Not a can of drink. Not even a piece of candy.

Yet his luck in mahjong is unfairly superb.

Apparently being nice, helpful and benevolent doesn't pay. Unless you stop being nice, shit will just keep coming at you. Even my mother agrees after watching that episode of "The Little Nyonya". 好心没好报, she sighed.

What happened to karma?

We shouldn't be expecting any forms of reward when we decide to help others. Altruism should come from the bottom of your heart. The only source of motivation should be your desire, your want to help others. External factors, like the availability of tangible rewards, should never play a part in your decision to help. That wouldn't be "true helping" anymore.

However, what we expect would be fairness from God, from the One, from O Heavens. Be fair. Treat us like how we truly deserve. The characters in the movie and the drama serials may be fictional, but they certainly are reflections of the lives of many individuals on this planet -- kind souls who are unfairly treated.

What goes around comes around? But does that apply to kindness? Will the kindess that we spread eventually come back to us? From the looks of it, the answer is probably no.

It's just disappointing.

Wind

There's something familiar about the wind that is blowing at my face right now. It has the smell of deja vu.

Then I remembered. It's the smell of the December wind. I smelt that last year when I was at Tekong.

One Year On

I attended the Commissioning Parade for the 71/08 batch of officer cadets at SAFTI on 13th December 2008.

The day that these guys finally receive their epaulettes, each with a golden bar sewn on it, was also the day that marks my 365th day in National Service. For those officer cadets who were in the same PTP batch as me, this date is extremely significant.

One year ago they were blur recruits who could only take orders from superiors, who stepped onto the Tekong soil with much trepidation, who looked ridiculous in their crew cut; one year on they are the ones who call the shots now, they are now the superiors, they are the ones who give orders which many must follow, they are now the ones with much pride and honour.

Even though I wasn't the one being commissioned, I felt extremely happy for those officer cadets standing on the parade square, whose heads were held high in their very best bearings. And especially so for those close to me, for they have done so much that I wouldn't have been able to accomplished.

Extreme physical trainings, countless rounds around the parade sqaure in No. 4 with boots plus tonnes of unnecessary load on your back, 9 days or so in the remote jungles of Brunei and Taiwan, ridiculously high expectations from your superiors in the school, endless opportunities for suspension of privileges... the list goes on. Sheesh, I certainly can't do that. I probably need prescriptions for anti-depressants.

Those guys on that parade square donned in the supremely-smart No. 1 uniform did what many of us can never achieve, and they certainly would have all my respect. Well, even though some of them were jerks during school days, and that I'd never really like them, I still clapped and cheered when they threw their caps up in the air in celebration of their official commissioning.

The What-Ifs kept haunting me recently, especially since it is now the one-year anniversary of my service for the country. What if I had chosen to work towards OCS during my BMT days and not do absolutely nothing for SIT test and IPPT in attempt to avoid being enrolled into OCS? What if I really made it to OCS, would I survive? What if I had known that my clearance is high enough to get myself into RSAF, and what if I know that trainings for officer cadets in Air Force School is bearable for my standards, would I have ticked the "Yes" box when asked if I want to go to command school?

I can still vividly remember how proud I was that day when I, without much hesistation, ticked "No" to command school and was certain that I would never look back and regret at my arguably rashful decision. Until recently.

Nostalgia is Evil, with that capital E. It makes people look back, and in doing so, people start regretting. It prohibits us from moving on and it hallucinoses us into believing that our past is better our current state(s).

And you start remembering your first day on Tekong, your first week, your first 5BX, your first interaction with your bunk mates, with your platoon mates, your first PC interview, your first time having to stand up in the middle of your breakfast and dinner at 6 A.M. and 6 P.M. respectively for the raising and lowering of the flags.

Day 1 was about the formulation and fine-tuning of our grand plan to escape from that island which, then, was perceived as cursed by many of us. Hijacking a fishing sampan that frequents the waters nearby, take a bit of soil each day and slowly reclaim our way back to mainland and feigning a serious injury so that we can hijack the Super Puma and fly our way back home were some of our silly options.

Eventually, we did leave the island for good, by taking one of those Penguin ferries. Our last ride on those ferries. After 13 weeks of proper basic military training.

Oh boy, as cursed the place may be, I still miss Tekong.

Everything just felt... different, back then. We were nervous, cautious and ridiculously ignorant about living on the island and survivng the trainings. We abide by whatever rules and regulations that we were taught or instructed. Without fail. Should we breach one of their rules, we fear. We tremble. We mumble in defence. We sometimes cry.

But not now. We heck care a lot of things. We follow the age-old unorthodox rule of "do but don't get caught" and had broken so many rules already. We no longer fear, because we now know what to do, and what's best not for us to attempt.

Things in unit life are just different from that in Tekong. Even the air in Tekong smells a lot different. Unpolluted air, just like our innocent mindset we once had during the first 3 months of our enlistment.

And now, we've learnt so much, so much so that we can heck care a lot of things. We do the bare minimum. Like for IPPT, a lot of us just aim for a pass, just so that they can be promoted.

Yes, I am guilty of being one of them who does the bare minimum.

But a trip to the commissioning parade and Zouk Out! after that put things into perspective. A golden circular badge with the silhouette of a running figure sewn on it can be found on the left sleeves of almost every single officer cadet; and almost every single guy who took off their clothes at the beach party had a body that most other men would die for.

And then I look at myself. I am nowhere near physically fit or physically attractive.

And then I am reminded of my own heck care attitude towards a lot of things.

What the fuck have I actually achieved, I asked myself.

Do you want to achieve something meaningful in your NS, or do you just want to slack off your two years achieving nothing, my first PC during my BMT had asked. "Are you proud to tell others that you were a clerk for your two years in NS?"

I feel inspired. To make a change. To make a difference. In my life.

Probably like what Jing Jie, one of my best friends made in BMT, had written on his Christmas card to me, I am an over-achiever. I've got fabulous a PSLE score, I'd done well in Chinese High, got into the top class, obtained a Silver medal for my science project in the Singapore Science and Engineering Fair, 8 distinctions for 'A'-Levels and the Prime Minister Book Prize 2008.

Like what Survivor: Gabon contestant Crystal Cox had said, when you are at the top for so long, it's hard to accept defeat.

As a top student from a top school, the masses has created and inoculated you a lionized persona, which means the acknowledgement of any kind of failure would represent a complete contradiction to your public image. The perceived perfection of us top students has been built up to such extent that we can no longer afford anything less than complete success.

Success, in the case of National Service, would mean to make it to OCS.

I have failed, according to the standards of the masses. I didn't make it to OCS. Just because I'd stubbornly believed that I really wanted to slack my two years away when my first PC asked us that question.

But I don't wish to continue to be a loser. I really need to do something.

Make that Resolution No. 1 for the year 2009. To make a difference.

For a start, I guess I need to start working out. Intensity of my gym routines need to be increased. More runnings are to be conducted. Swim as much as I could during my two-hour lunch break.

Jia Wei (who is an officer now) has this MSN nickname right now as I'm typing this: live no regrets. moving on.

I want to live with no regrets. But nostalgia is Evil. It's hard to move on. It makes me melancholic. It makes me want to listen to Dido's "Grafton Street" again and again.

It's all the what-ifs. Maybe I still haven't fully adjusted to being at the bottom of the society, albeit for two years only.

Enough of words. Readers want pictures, so here we go:

My SJAB mate Jeremy, with his parents putting the epaulettes on his shoulders:



Jun Quan, Jia Wei, Yan Min and me:



Me and Jun Quan:


Me and Chin Kiat:


Me and Gerard, my BMT platoon mate:


Most of them lost weight. And they really lost a lot. It certainly had been hard on them.

Christmas Wishlist (Part II)

Monopoly Here and Now: The World Edition. SGD$69.90 from Toys 'R' Us



Mindtrap Game Set. Approx SGD$65.00. I think there are 2 editions to this game. Both of them Any one will do. =)



Much-anticipated third album "Safe Trip Home" by UK singer, Dido. Approx SGD$20.00



Sex And The City -- Movie Book. Approx SGD$45.00