tuesday, 3 nov 2009.
0614hrs: all is dark, not a soul stirs, not a sound.
0615: the sound of the phone alarm pierces through the air, silenced quickly by an outstretched hand.
0616: all is dark.
0617: he sits up, retrieves his specs and watch, gets on his feet and slowly heads to the throne.
0618: suddenly remembers that he wanted to write this thing. dang.
0621: finishes his business and trudges back into his room to fetch his notepad and begins scribbling with a pen that smudges all over the pages.
0625: done writing. exit bedroom into the hallway. "hello" to the lady of the household. she gets up to0 early in the mornings, he reflects. commence breakfast.
0630: cereal with milk and yogurt complemented with headlines of the day.
0640: he reconsiders this crazy idea about writing about every minute detail of his day.
0658: puts on some clothes. the sun is rising, light streaming in through the windowpane. he'd better hurry or risk getting caught in the morning jam.
0711: took his own sweet time, but out the door now. shirt, jeans, gym shoes, rucksack, water bottle, car keys, notepad with pen that smudges all over the pages. car park.
0714: long drive ahead. start engine. handbrake off. drop the clutch, first gear, big left turn, seat belt on before it starts beeping, a quick nod at the security guard before pulling into mt. faber road. music is the mars volta.
0744: lower delta road. ayer rajah expressway. clementi avenue 6. pan island expressway. bukit batok road. brickland road, with the irritating traffic lights that stay green for about 30 seconds. a short stint on kranji expressway, up choa chu kang way, turn into lorong kebasi, pass the newly painted entrance to the detention barracks. why have they painted a red stripe on the white chinese stone lions? that looks horrible. cut the engine, open the door to the sound of a whistling... sparrow, just 5m away on the ground. hi there.
0745: trudge to the camp gates.
0748: note to self, use a different pen, this one smudges too badly.
0758: smile to the camp guards, familiar and unfamiliar faces. shall i go by the back? he shows better judgement and heads for the rear stairs. good thinking, first parade is underway, not a smart time to appear in front of everyone. four flights of stairs, almost there, open the door, flick the fans on, put away paraphernalia, remove socks and shoes, he makes himself at home. it's hot.
0803: bari walks in, ignores his greeting, plonks down on his own bed, just alongside. "did warrent dick say anything this time?" facing the opposite direction, with a pillow pressed to his ear... no reply from bari. oh well. no biggie.
0816: rest of the gang comes waltzing in. talk about ord, what else. song wei paces up and down the bunk.
0841: upsy-daisy. he's off to get signatures now. ord clearance form. just a few left. trudge out the door.
0845: a bit of patience while waiting for warrent dick to sort out the mess in the station. no problem. "armskote sign already?" "yessir." (edit: wonder who on earth came up with that word. pretty sure it is unique to the s'pore army. armskote. closest one i can find is this english village.)
0850: hey, nice one. as he steps out into the carpark, there's the oc opening his car. last time getting oc to sign papers for him - he's been nice to him in the past, in that respect.
"ippt?"
"gold."
"oh both times?"
"ya."
"oh you're the one who everytime go for your, what ah..."
0853: trudge across to hq, past the canteen, up one flight of stairs. final signature. slight indecision between entering QM or GS branch. settle on QM.
0855: found warrent idris. upon approach he gives a queer look, but finally relents and signs. work done.
0900: he considers getting breakfast at the canteen, but horrors, he still has zero cash on him.
0905: a visit to the mess, get on the internet, reply an email. type out a fairly long email to his warwick friend. whom he still thinks of particularly often.
0940: why do people play facebook games? 3 of them whiling away at the computers. 1 of them remarks, "hey, the other people playing this game are all mostly girls." snigger.
1028: back in the bunk now. from here he's just waiting for the time to pass by, so he can have lunch at the cookhouse near noon. bari's still dozing. song wei's not happy about something, he's going on about something, about doing more blitz, so much unhappiness pouring out, concealed by the silly grin on his face which never quite goes away. he finds a better pen and begins writing.
1040: chatter about blogging, about girls, secondary school life. takes his mind off things. the blades on the fan go round and round.
1059: from here on he's just waiting for the time to pass by.
1060: for the time to pass by.
1061: to pass by.
1063: by.
1112: never ceases to amaze how people can sleep right through the entire morning. you awake no fresher than when you first fell asleep.
1130: dons the greens for one last time, them boots that have long ceased to shine. prepares to trudge to the cookhouse.
1230: western food was met with distinct disapproval. urgh. accompanied by two of singapore's brightest young soccer talents for lunch, during which they tried to conceal the lack of an armband from a training school commander. middle-aged men, tall, short, thin, stout, share a grim look upon their features as they form a queue that drags along the side of the hall. reservists.
1238: he shares conversation with the kayaking friend and his schoolmate, the classical guitarist. they talk about weird classmates and about ord, what else.
1254: goodbye kayaking friend, wish you best of luck for when you cross over to the next world.
1257: open the door on bunk 4-14. same number as his sec 4 class. ha.
1301: afternoon nap. he doesn't want to nod off again while driving to the gym. no point going early anyway.
1356: theres an eery silence in the bunk. hmm, everyone's gone. he packs his things, slowly. hangers and clothes.
i've finished my writing for now. it's a lot of scribbling for one day, the pages are pretty full. i hope i've done enough to prove my point. have a banana.
all lyrics from 'slow show' and 'start a war'. by the national.
0614hrs: all is dark, not a soul stirs, not a sound.
0615: the sound of the phone alarm pierces through the air, silenced quickly by an outstretched hand.
0616: all is dark.
0617: he sits up, retrieves his specs and watch, gets on his feet and slowly heads to the throne.
0618: suddenly remembers that he wanted to write this thing. dang.
0621: finishes his business and trudges back into his room to fetch his notepad and begins scribbling with a pen that smudges all over the pages.
Standing at the punch table swallowing punch
Can't pay attention to the sound of anyone
A little more stupid, a little more scared
Every minute more unprepared
Can't pay attention to the sound of anyone
A little more stupid, a little more scared
Every minute more unprepared
0625: done writing. exit bedroom into the hallway. "hello" to the lady of the household. she gets up to0 early in the mornings, he reflects. commence breakfast.
0630: cereal with milk and yogurt complemented with headlines of the day.
0640: he reconsiders this crazy idea about writing about every minute detail of his day.
0658: puts on some clothes. the sun is rising, light streaming in through the windowpane. he'd better hurry or risk getting caught in the morning jam.
0711: took his own sweet time, but out the door now. shirt, jeans, gym shoes, rucksack, water bottle, car keys, notepad with pen that smudges all over the pages. car park.
0714: long drive ahead. start engine. handbrake off. drop the clutch, first gear, big left turn, seat belt on before it starts beeping, a quick nod at the security guard before pulling into mt. faber road. music is the mars volta.
0744: lower delta road. ayer rajah expressway. clementi avenue 6. pan island expressway. bukit batok road. brickland road, with the irritating traffic lights that stay green for about 30 seconds. a short stint on kranji expressway, up choa chu kang way, turn into lorong kebasi, pass the newly painted entrance to the detention barracks. why have they painted a red stripe on the white chinese stone lions? that looks horrible. cut the engine, open the door to the sound of a whistling... sparrow, just 5m away on the ground. hi there.
0745: trudge to the camp gates.
0748: note to self, use a different pen, this one smudges too badly.
0758: smile to the camp guards, familiar and unfamiliar faces. shall i go by the back? he shows better judgement and heads for the rear stairs. good thinking, first parade is underway, not a smart time to appear in front of everyone. four flights of stairs, almost there, open the door, flick the fans on, put away paraphernalia, remove socks and shoes, he makes himself at home. it's hot.
0803: bari walks in, ignores his greeting, plonks down on his own bed, just alongside. "did warrent dick say anything this time?" facing the opposite direction, with a pillow pressed to his ear... no reply from bari. oh well. no biggie.
0816: rest of the gang comes waltzing in. talk about ord, what else. song wei paces up and down the bunk.
Looking for somewhere to stand and stay
I leaned on the wall and the wall leaned away
I leaned on the wall and the wall leaned away
0841: upsy-daisy. he's off to get signatures now. ord clearance form. just a few left. trudge out the door.
0845: a bit of patience while waiting for warrent dick to sort out the mess in the station. no problem. "armskote sign already?" "yessir." (edit: wonder who on earth came up with that word. pretty sure it is unique to the s'pore army. armskote. closest one i can find is this english village.)
0850: hey, nice one. as he steps out into the carpark, there's the oc opening his car. last time getting oc to sign papers for him - he's been nice to him in the past, in that respect.
"ippt?"
"gold."
"oh both times?"
"ya."
"oh you're the one who everytime go for your, what ah..."
0853: trudge across to hq, past the canteen, up one flight of stairs. final signature. slight indecision between entering QM or GS branch. settle on QM.
0855: found warrent idris. upon approach he gives a queer look, but finally relents and signs. work done.
0900: he considers getting breakfast at the canteen, but horrors, he still has zero cash on him.
0905: a visit to the mess, get on the internet, reply an email. type out a fairly long email to his warwick friend. whom he still thinks of particularly often.
You were always weird
but I never had to hold you
by the edges like I do now
You were always weird
but I never had to hold you
by the edges like I do now
Walk away now
and you're gonna start a war
but I never had to hold you
by the edges like I do now
You were always weird
but I never had to hold you
by the edges like I do now
Walk away now
and you're gonna start a war
0940: why do people play facebook games? 3 of them whiling away at the computers. 1 of them remarks, "hey, the other people playing this game are all mostly girls." snigger.
1028: back in the bunk now. from here he's just waiting for the time to pass by, so he can have lunch at the cookhouse near noon. bari's still dozing. song wei's not happy about something, he's going on about something, about doing more blitz, so much unhappiness pouring out, concealed by the silly grin on his face which never quite goes away. he finds a better pen and begins writing.
1040: chatter about blogging, about girls, secondary school life. takes his mind off things. the blades on the fan go round and round.
1059: from here on he's just waiting for the time to pass by.
1060: for the time to pass by.
1061: to pass by.
1063: by.
1112: never ceases to amaze how people can sleep right through the entire morning. you awake no fresher than when you first fell asleep.
1130: dons the greens for one last time, them boots that have long ceased to shine. prepares to trudge to the cookhouse.
1230: western food was met with distinct disapproval. urgh. accompanied by two of singapore's brightest young soccer talents for lunch, during which they tried to conceal the lack of an armband from a training school commander. middle-aged men, tall, short, thin, stout, share a grim look upon their features as they form a queue that drags along the side of the hall. reservists.
1238: he shares conversation with the kayaking friend and his schoolmate, the classical guitarist. they talk about weird classmates and about ord, what else.
1254: goodbye kayaking friend, wish you best of luck for when you cross over to the next world.
1257: open the door on bunk 4-14. same number as his sec 4 class. ha.
1301: afternoon nap. he doesn't want to nod off again while driving to the gym. no point going early anyway.
1356: theres an eery silence in the bunk. hmm, everyone's gone. he packs his things, slowly. hangers and clothes.
We expected something,
something better than before.
We expected something more
Do you really think you can just put it in a safe
behind a painting, lock it up and leave
Do you really think you can just put it in a safe
behind a painting, lock it up and leave
Walk away now
and you're gonna start a war
the hangers didn't really want to fit into the rucksack, they put up a real struggle.
sigh. no one here to say goodbye to. goodbye.
1450: i sit in my car now, parked at the national sailing centre, listening to the national. matt's voice gives the music a bleak, sombre tone, but it really isn't all that gloomy, their music is full of optimism, hope, it has potential, it holds promise for a better future.something better than before.
We expected something more
Do you really think you can just put it in a safe
behind a painting, lock it up and leave
Do you really think you can just put it in a safe
behind a painting, lock it up and leave
Walk away now
and you're gonna start a war
the hangers didn't really want to fit into the rucksack, they put up a real struggle.
sigh. no one here to say goodbye to. goodbye.
Whatever went away I'll get it over now
I'll get money, I'll get funny again
Whatever went away I'll get it over now
I'll get money, I'll get funny again
Walk away now
and you're gonna start a war
I'll get money, I'll get funny again
Whatever went away I'll get it over now
I'll get money, I'll get funny again
Walk away now
and you're gonna start a war
I wanna hurry home to you
put on a slow, dumb show for you
and crack you up
put on a slow, dumb show for you
and crack you up
i've finished my writing for now. it's a lot of scribbling for one day, the pages are pretty full. i hope i've done enough to prove my point. have a banana.
all lyrics from 'slow show' and 'start a war'. by the national.
. . .
reporter: what sort of life lessons have you learned from your time in the army?
interviewee: well, you can argue that it teaches you toughness and the value of teamwork...
...but then not really, because these things i sorta learnt from before ns, and even then you only really go through such things during bmt, which is just the first 3 months.
if i could complete my answer to that interview now, i'd say, in hindsight,
ns teaches you lots of wrong things. but there is one major life lesson.
i learnt about patience. over and over, time and time again. you wait, and time ticks by, and you wait, withholding your frustrations.
from day 1, you patiently await ord.
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