I don't know how I manage to do it when I was schooling. Maybe schooling was shorter. Much shorter. And you know for sure what time you would be going home etc. There's also more fun.

Waking up at 0630 everyday. Having to get changed and computer fired up by 0730. Work. Repetition. More repetition. Loaning out of stores. Data entry. Bookings to be made. Dispatch. Conference reports. Monitor people. Get tasked to do random, stupid things by superiors. Politics. etc.

What time the day ends is never definite. Earliest 1730. Latest - there isn't one. A stay-in maybe. For instance. I only got home after eight today.

Four hundred and thirty four days to go. And I have no idea how am I going to get over them.

I'm still not changed yet. Maybe getting fatter.


I want to change.



I find it really amazing that people can get so focused. Goal-oriented. "I must do this, this and this." Don't they have any distractions or stray thoughts? If only I was as robotic as those people.


Change.


Why's there a need for change? Honestly speaking. I'm feeling quite comfy and relaxed doing mundane stuff. But this simply feels wrong. I'm not the practical kind. So it doesn't make sense to 'get a good job'. It doesn't make sense to do work so that life would be more 'meaningful'. It does make a little sense that experiences would better a person.

Do it for pride?
For ego?
So that you can get money?
So that you can laugh at people?
No.
Coz we must find things to do?
Work is good?
Work helps us to become better?
For what?
Okay, so I do it for my girlfriend.
But for what?
Why does she want me to do so?
Does it go back to practicality again?
This is just how life functions?
What if we have free flow cash? Would anyone study?
For knowledge?
You can't carry it to your grave mate.
To kill time?
To make yourself believe that you are better than people who didn't/couldn't study?
Hoping that you reach zen suddenly when you are studying?
So that you can do whatever you want if you can get a good job?
Why not just buy the lottery?
Why not just smuggle some crack?
Why not just quit since you can't seem to start studying anyway?
Why am I so half-hearted in this?
Why am I such a rebel?

Enlighten me.

blaargh. lousy system.

i'm wheezing.


using my old ventolin.


the medical centre in camp sucks. gives out bad tasting salamol inhalers.


to top that, my nose doesn't seem to able to stop running.

yes sir.
hey yo.

he opens up his jacket
i open up my package
he pulls out his money
i'm pulling out that honey
he stuffs it in his mouth as soon as he took it from me
yellow teeth chapped lips and his nose is running
he lick that shit
he hit that quick
i ask if he like that shit
he smiles as if he's paying homage
he said in the back of the apartment
they would be selling gangja

this that shit that makes you wanna hustle
carry square guns shooting metal with mufflers
trunk full of cash worth a couple of duffles
so we can sit and eat a bundle of truffles

it's incredible
how i etch my plan out to be physically sound and financially stand out
teenage girls love you and models wanna fuck ya
ice-cream your way to somebody's magazine cover
so much money that the lips bring corruption

tried going down slopes - fell ~6 times
tried speeding - fell 2 times
tried going down grass slope - can't stop, fell, dug soil with hand
tried skating alongside vehicles on pedestrian pavements - fell 5 times
time - 1 hour

weheeeeee

I love the way you blow up your cheeks, looking away, hoping that your blush will go away if you were to fan yourself with your hand.

















and yet again karebu is just going to stay put.

Just got back from a run. And my shins/ankles hurt like mad.

Don't think I'm built to run and I think I'm giving up. Can't run 9.44 without killing myself (my legs).

Flat-footed. shot taken when I was sitting down so you can see slight arch.


The ankles just don't seem to increase in size (muscles). Don't you think it's quite something that they can withstand like 80kg of thumping with each step?




Alright. I'm going to show everyone my bird for one full minute.

So chirpy +D

Crazy. Still can smile sia. Haha.







as of monday

His ride:
Texas Imperial D1 S15 Silvia

Specs:
HKS Short Ram Intake, Blitz DD BOV, Blitz RVit-II, Do-Luck Boost Gauge, Defi-BF Water & Oil Temp, Greddy Pro Boost Controller, Tein HA suspension, A-Tech SSR Final Speed 17" semi-forge (F=7.5J & R=8.5J), Ogura twin plate clutch, Nismo R200 2-Way LSD, Project Mu rear brake disc & brake pads, C-West wide bodykit, Cusco front strut bar, Cusco front & rear anti-roll bars, Nismo powerbrace, D-Max rear upper camber arms, OrT rear toe arms, Apexi turbo timer, KTS drift-spec steering wheel, D1 Spec detachable boss kit, Sparco Pro 2000 bucket seat, Sabelt Pro 3" harness

Well since I broke the stick, I was thinking, why not have some fun.

So here goes.

fuck man. i accidentally snapped my cyalume stick. zzz. supposed to be blackout store (at home).

"The man who views the world at fifty, the same as twenty, has wasted thirty years of his life."

Oh. Anyway I feel damn sad. Someone wrecked his ride. The bumper/lip was like gone and dangling when I saw it today along choa chu kang way.


Previously

Went to the gym just now (like after about a year?). Shocking. Shocking crowd there. Packed away in a small gym. Preteens. Like 14 y.o. To senior citizens. What a major turn-off to wait. Wait for a machine. Use it for 2 minutes. And wait again.


Yeah now I understand. Why it's better to be big. There are alot of people with small frames. Trying to pack as much muscles in as possible. And no matter how defined they are, they still look puny. No one would guess that the small guy can press 100kg. And no one would know that the big guy can't press more than 30kg. Haha.



Genes. Nothing beat genes. Maintenance-free shit.

This is cannot.


Doesn't mean people are smiling and sitting around = you can climb over their heads.

a long cane an open crane so hush corruptedness copulatedness when.
corrupted was the name of the game, those shake down gave it away, trade sell. what are you going to say when marry now. destructed bring it away corrupted like it say you see it again get a game you know. corrupted. leave it today. soon soon you know.
a fountain of flies. white dove cries. it's all alone. you try to resist. honestly namelessness. but it ain't so rush.

"
Dear NG XXXXX, your next appt with Clinic 1A is 15 Nov 2006, 09.25 am. Pl call 6357 XXXX if you need changes to your appt. From: TTSH
"

wow.

I don't have the super-customized ORD countdown program I did up using excel in my office on my pc.

So roughly I have been on this job for about. 3 months or so.

For the first month, I was made to sit at my computer. Not allowed to read mags. But whatever man. I did still. Finished all my newsweek/national geographic mags I've not touched since.. last year?

In the second month, I took extra long lunch breaks. 1130 to 1330. Talking with my buddy who, too, has been given this newfound freedom (he's not in the same office as me though). Either that or I will be sleeping in bunk. Waiting for my phone to ring. But most of the time the days went by without anyone looking for me.

This month, I've been office-hopping. Visting people. Sitting around. Talking rubbish. Laughing at stupid things. Basically not at my own desk 95% of the time.


It sucks. To know very well that you are wasting your time away. Waiting for time to pass by. Not knowing when exactly you can go home(usually it's around six anyway). And to suck more coz you know you haven't got the discipline to do things you should do for yourself - and that's not even work-related.


I've like tried almost all possible chaokeng methods. All the possible ways one can try to waste time away - extra long lunch breaks, sleep, talk cock, surf net, stone, reading, what have you?

Right now I wanna have a different experience. And hopefully in a more positive light. And maybe I will get seriously freaking sick of idling that I would want to work hard.

Maybe.

After getting the coach's phone number from the president last saturday, I messaged the coach and asked if I could collect my judo record/pass book this week. He said okay.

And it looks like (from MSN nick(s)) the judo ppl are having some dinner/gathering this saturday.


Gawd. What a bad timing.

Go on, get yourself a bike.

blah. i was thinking of finishing all today. doesn't exactly taste nice to mix around. sucks. i guess i'll drink bit by bit.

woohooo

"Er.. Shit.. I today half day then i took the key back home.. haha" - My bunkmate texted me.

I just shifted bunk and every one else who had the key took leave. Fuck. Had no key. And the quartermistress who held the spare key was also on leave. So I called my buddy.

"............. ......"
B: "How about through the windows?"
Me: "-hysterical laughter-"
B: "Really, it's possible. I'll come over to your bunk now."
Me: "Okay, sounds fucking fun!!"

So I borrowed the key from the mate who lived next door. And my buddy went through (the window) first. Then me. Climbed across.
Me: "Hey, can the sentry see us?"
B: "No, he's not looking this way."
And when we got through (the window of my new bunk) we were laughing like mad.


HAHA.


--------------------------------------------------------------------

".. .. . I’ve spoken to a lot of college kids lately who regularly spend $200 for a pair of blue jeans. When I ask them how long it takes for them to earn that kind of cash, the answer usually falls in the realm of a week or so. At this point, I will stress that not even the very wealthy spend an entire weeks worth of salary on one article of clothing. College kids disagree because they’ve seen wealthy people wearing more expensive clothing than their jeans. So I explain that while they may wear more expensive clothing, that it doesn’t constitute a week of their salary. Normally, they earn the price of expensive jeans in an hour, often less. On the off chance that the kid understands the picture that I’m trying to paint for him, he expresses shock that I would suggest he should never spend more than $8 (his hourly wage) on a single article of clothing….or alternatively buy significantly less clothing. But most of the time, the idea that they might be living well above their means only confuses them and they just stare at me blankly. ......"

Well. Whoever stole my sandals.

I hope you did it out of desperation. Like, you really needed some shoes or. something. I don't know. Thrill? blah. You've been forgiven.


Anyway. It's a good lesson. Taught me that. Life goes on. Even after you lose things. Sandals. Girlfriend. stuff. Yea, it's simple and commonsensical, but nothing beats experiencing for yourself.


Time to move on.

woohooo.

This has got to be the best night/most peaceful sleep ever. peace out.

What luck. My teva sandals got stolen. I was at my cousin's house. For the fourth time. Repairing their computer. Finally got it working. Went out. And poof. No shoes. Well according to them their stuff get stolen quite often too. Like a bike. And a piss break = a missing bike. So much for bringing it up AFTER yet another loss.


Yea. That was the shoe I HAD. blah.( It's in USD btw, and not inclusive of shipping.)

Went prowling the entire place.

Rang 999. Must applaud the police for being so efficient.
-dials 999-
P: Good evening. ?(didn't hear properly) police division.
Me: Good evening. This is a non-emergency. Is it okay for me to make a loss report?
P: Yes, it is.
Me: Alright, my sandals were stolen within the past 3 hours, that is, between eight to eleven.
P: Can I have your address?
Me: I was repairing my cousin's computer so let me give you their address instead. XXXXXX XXXXXX XXXXXX.
P: Okay, and you are?
Me: Ng XXXXXXXXXXX. Would you like NRIC no. as well? (because over my side with NRIC no.s things are alot handy-er)
(I don't think he heard this part. He said okay but didn't ask. And I was thinking they are as eff-ed up as us NSFs.)
Anyway, I would like to give more details. Teva sandals. Black and blue zig-zagged designs. About size 11 or 12.
P: Alright, do you want police officers to go over?
Me: Would that be too troublesome?
P: No, it's okay, do you want them to go over?
Me: I guess it's not necessary. I just hope that you guys can patrol here more often.
P: Alright note taken. We'll do more rounds.
Me: That's all I have. Thank you and goodbye.
P: Bye.

I was still prowling about the place. An hour later I saw a patrol car in the vicinity. Wow. Thumbs up to you guys.

I was pondering on what lesson I can learn from this incident. (Anyway I went to get a drink as well. I think I found something new I like. =)
caffine and vodka)

I mean, obviously, one lesson would be to bring in your shoes into the house.

But I just find it so weird. The loss was. Was like. RARRRRR. grr. ponders. zen. I don't know. I feel like. Wow. So that's how it feels like. I got motivated. No idea what I want to do though. Like. Become a better person. Distance myself from these people. Understand them? A sense of self-righteousness kicks in?

Well, if I could grow (not literally, duh) just abit. I think the loss is very much worth it. Shrug.



Anyway. I shifted bunk this morning. Quite happy. Finally a bunk that's clean. The last one was horrid. The smell. And the people. Clothes. Smelly clothes. All over the place. Dust. I picked up after them initially. And I got tired. They are just. nah. I don't feel comfortable in their bunk. So I shifted.




PS:
The previous post was just some some lyrics.

4.30am I'm awake again
singing to the dark through open eyes
while dreaming I see only you and me
stuck between desire and compromise

if I said I want you back I'd be a liar
there's nothing left of us to long for anymore
but inside the ashes burns an endless fire
and every night I can't help reaching out for more

you're leaving me scars scattered in my heart
a road map of all the places you have been
and I can't escape, can't wash this away
love has burned your mark so deep within

and I can't sleep

you're so far away from me

I was holding your hand last night.



Were you?

Reality 2030 - What is?



--------------------------------------

Anyway.

I used to respect warrant(non-commission) officers for their experience, their wisdom perhaps, but the respect seems to be slipping away slightly, especially after encounters with one of my superiors who happen to be a warrant officer.

Like I may have told some of you all, he's one that no NSFs can hold a conversation with for more than half a minute without some sort of scolding or him raising his voice.

Not only has he got a bad temper, he is a very mean person and he's not, the least bit intelligent. And he cannot hold his temper. It's so freaking obvious. Even when he's unhappy with his superiors his face turns blood red. I guess he will die of high blood pressure someday. Also, he's rude (raises his voice, impatient, arrogant) to warrant officers (who are much older than him in age) of the same rank, because he thinks his appointment is special. He's also a freaking bootlicker who cares about face and face only.

Let me just state four examples - and mind you, they took place today, in just one day. Let's call this warrant officer F.
1)F has a tiff with another colleage of mine, and F has been finding way to twist words, making a big fuss out of small matters, so that F can bump him off our office. And in the meantime F tries to get the rest of us to pick up his job so that we can function without him. Naturally, we would try to siam as no one would want more work.

2)This female officer (she wasn't angry or anything, more of inquisitive tone) was just wondering if another officer took his IPPT. So I checked the system for her, and the response was negative. Immediately, F came to know of this and flared up. When I checked with my upperstudy and realized there was an admin lapse, he got .. just.. blah. yea.

3)F can't seem to read/interpret English. Today there was an outing, so to speak. It was supposed to be an half day event, and we could go home after that. Out of goodwill, my friend messaged F and asked, "Sir, if there's no work for us, can we go off now?". There was no response and we were told to go off first (by another superior junior in rank to F). My friend was already off on his way when F flared up real bad (F did not know about my friend going off, I covered for him and called him in secret to come back, and thankful, in time). He demanded that everyone be gathered in front of his desk for questioning. And half the time F was saying/repeating, "What off? What off? Who give you off? Who say can take off?" Apparently, his mind was only set to filter out these words. Off. Leave. Such words are big no-no and they will be taken away even when we sacrificed our time for some event/deserved it/was an off-in-lieu. Also, my guess is that his English standard was really bad. He doesn't seem to understand that 'go off' meant literally, going home, going out, leaving the camp, like, seriously, he doesn't understand English. And we were forced to stay back late when people from other companies were already home/in town.

4)F was doing some monthly NSF performance grading thing. Upon hearing that awarding a C could mean serious difficulty in securing a job with the government, he gave it without hesitation to the friend I mentioned in (1). Also, another colleague of mine was awarded some award(not to be named, it's only given to one person in the entire camp every month) for outstanding performance. F was even reluctant to award him an Outstanding grade for him. He gave him a B instead.

These are like, just a few of the many many, small, stupid things.


Sigh. Why does it seem so hard for F to be kind? Or at least, respect people?

Why, does it hurt you(F) to be nice to others? Do you think others will cooperate more if you are mean to them? Do you not realize that we(my mates and I) can simply refuse to cooperate? Simply puy, just screw up all our work and the harshest punishment you can melt out is give us extra duties. And how long can you give it to us? 2 years? Work is piling up dude. And your image will be tarnished. Goodbye, career.



Now it really does make sense that warrant officers have to salute to fresh lieutenants who just graduated from cadet school. For the simple fact that the former doesn't seem to be able to rationalize as well as the latter.

Who would, in the first place, be in the right frame of mind to sign on as a specialist?


460 days before I fuck off from conscript.