we cannot change the cards we are dealt,
just how we play the hand.
Thursday, June 10, 2004
7:43 AM
Posting
31st. march. enlist. haircut. shouting. sergeants. shouting. platoon sergeants. shouting. running. stripping. platoon mates. buddy. platoon IC. dari cunt nan chapachapalan. PT. 5BX w/run. BCCT. sand. in red underwear. aqua jogging. salty chlorine. field camp. soil. centipedes. scorpions. flies. bugs. many. big. red. ants. fuck. 5BX wo/run. friends. annex. basketball. range. smuggle. bullets. live throw. cannot smuggle. grenade. more. admin. 5BX wo/BX. close friends. GP. feint. faint. fun. 5th. june. pop.
and so the dreary countdown begins for all privates. 12 hours from now, i shall hit upon the mouse click to decide the fate of my coming two years.
the voices in my head-
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
5:51 AM
For Now,
i'm stranded between two escalators. it seemed like a weird notion to board the homeward-bound train at 7:30, perhaps the earliest i had ever headed home in months. but i ache.
its been a long time, since i had written the forbidden letter. till date, it lies clasped between the pages of a forgotten book, beneath a pile of explicit vcds. many a happy times i desired to fling that page of my life out of the window, but i know it would return to haunt me some day.
having to be mature, sympathetic, sensitive, understanding must be the worse parts of love. but i'm no great man, and i let myself down once and again. just that in times like these in absence of major damage control, xiaoyuan would have the right to cleave my legs off.
you know the bullshit they feed you about having more freedom when you age? do you realise the shitloads of commitments that come along as well? i get that pounding contradiction in my head all the time, on which course to pursue. on universities to embark. on places to stay. on whom to pacify. on attitudes to take on towards army. on whom to spend time with. on what to do. on this and that. on these and those. i used to hate alarm clocks, but now i simply abhor decisions.
for now,
what i need is a little peace. i'd trade my cup of love for a bag of tealeaves, to sit beneath a cold metal hoop in the dead of the night, away from the clattering of tiles and cackle of voices. whoever said laughter's the panacea, when it can irk so deeply. it is possible to rest in cold slumber when music blares amidst party gongs, but laughter a quart the volume would wake even the most tender sleeps. i used to say happiness is the key to any locks, but my dear, some locks have no key holes.
i'm a funny guy. i remember telling someone dear not to speed down dangerous roads but i feel the sudden urge to mount my bike and ride the slopes of kismis, the winds by my side, piping away my fatigue to care, worry and love.
for now,
i turned right, taking the train headed for my clementi home, the sounds of a distant love song playing right outside my ears. and as i took the crossing from the platform, my head inexplicably twisted to stare behind my back for a mere silhouette.
the voices in my head-
i love my girl. a love so beautiful, symmetrical, tangible
God loves me. a love so great, unconditional, real.
my life in a nutshell. working towards loves of sorts. beautiful, symmetrical, tangible, great, unconditional and real.
a page, deliberately left blank.
Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking.
It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
I Corinthians 13:4-8
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