It's the 5th week of BSLC, and I have been here as an OOC since the 2nd week. I took the long Deepavali weekend to reflect deeply on the near future. I've submitted to the possibility of staying here in Bravo Coy, SISPEC, till December, long after the guys have passed out.
Two of the other OOCs have been posted out to RP last week. One went to a Guards camp and the other to a Commando camp as an RP. They celebrated the arrival of the news and I extended my hand to congratulate them. What was my fate, now? I didn't feel sad nor envious. I guess it's been too long, and if I were to stay then why not make it a rich experience?
I booked in on Monday night and walked past the gates in a new-found confidence. This is it.
The next day the company had their first night out. As expected, not everyone could go out and that's just the trainees. What else than the OOC? My sergeant major called me down to the armskote and I stood in front of him, ready for the next orders. Just that morning, we had a heartfelt talk about my feelings at the moment. He's a great guy and I liked working with him.
"Change into civilian clothing. You're getting a night's out."
That night, I walked past the other few OOCs who were looking and moaning in envy as I appeared in civilian. Another OOC mate of mine followed me out as well. It's a new life for me now. A different, more optimistic mindset. I was long tired of the rubbish I've been thinking for the past weeks.
I made sure I was going to make this night memorable so I dropped by the nearest Cold Storage and bought some cheap rum and vodka. I had four hours to spare and I planned on congratulating myself. We bought some burgers and sat under the void deck just smoking and eating and drinking. It wasn't that much of alcohol but I gulped it all down in an effort for a buzz. I was feeling genuinely happy and I couldn't stop grinning. I made my way back to camp and couldn't stop smiling. I was filled with euphoria. I don't know why... I was also slightly groggy from some medication that night on top of the alcohol. I lay on the bed, half naked, my guitar by my side and my ears plugged with rock ballads. I was set, and I was happy. This was my night, and this was my camp. The next day, I received a call.
"Is this Audi? Did you know you had to report to Stagmont camp yesterday?"
I was posted out by the late afternoon. The last Yankee I met that day was Jayden, who was in the office where I was processing my posting order. Thus began my life as a Regimental Police in Stagmont camp.
Stagmont camp is a little camp sitting on top of a hill in Choa Chu Kang. From the guardhouse, where I spend most of my time, I can see Bukit Panjang and the expressway. A few steps out of the gate and it's the common HDB blocks. My duty was basically juggling between sentry duty and counter duty. I get to go home often and my weekends are off. Between duties I have the liberty to do whatever I want. It's great and I can imagine some people wanting to be in my position. But life is fair, and I won't be getting any action out in the field. Ever.
Never in my life have I ever thought I'd end up in this situation.
I'm lucky to have great people here in this small little hut. There are only about seven of us here, and I've made friends with them. I was delighted to know that we had many common interests like photography, the Internet, and technology. As a plus, some were interested in current issues and politics. To put it bluntly, I felt like I had an ounce more of intelligence here than previously.
It's been two weeks now and I've gotten comfortable very fast. I received my camp pass, which confirmed my status as a permanent staff, and I had my own rifle. How much I missed having my own rifle. I've spent many hours out in the rain and sun and my skin has turned many shades darker. These hours of idling always resulted in us having discussions related to our interests. We have a great view of the sky over the horizon and we watch with awe and wonder as we see clouds roll by and thunders flashing. Once, our guardhouse was struck by lightning right after I got into the building. The phones died and the computer, which my sergeant was on, hanged. We have no shortage of thunder here and it once felt like we were being bombarded with artillery. Between these little vignettes, I opened barriers and saluted officers in their cars.
A close friend of Nick is here in this camp, and he happened to be an acquaintance when I was in poly. His name is Jarrel, and we met in the cookhouse once. To me, that was my only physical contact to our friend in OCS. It's creepy-weird, I know, but when you're in a lonely situation, every little vague connection counts.
My life as an RP is exactly how I wanted my life in NS to be: free, autonomous, and there's room for my own interests everyday. I achieved my goal which was planned as a backup if I didn't get into OCS from BMT. But one of the flaws in that plan was I never asked the next question,"Then what?"
I guess this is a learning point - that the grass is always greener on the other side, that one must learn to be contented with what they already have, no matter the situation. I got it all. What more do I want?
I seem to be having the flu. It happens every time I get home but it's normal... I have two cats at home and they love shedding their fur all around my room. It's a kind of a love-hate relationship: They love me to bits but I hate them just the same. I was doing my thing in the late night when I heard, right above me (My bed's suspended in the air) the all too familiar gagging of my cat. Next thing I knew the damn thing vomited hairballs and all the gooey junk went splattering on the floor below. I kicked him out of the room. And no, those dopey eyes don't fool me anymore!
The flu this time round was bad. Really bad. Is this normal? Whenever I sneeze a sharp pain travels from my chest all the way to my inner elbows. It's paralyzing to say the least. A quick check on Google confirms this phenomena and it may be high blood pressure (I'm fine), or something stemming from a past injury.
The last injury I received was falling off the pull-up bar last week and landing on my ass. Kinda funny, that.
Emo be gone, I don't really bother much about posting out anymore. I've come to terms with myself and decided to enjoy wherever the hell I am now. I've thrown all the OCS, MDC, Armoured Driver dreams out the window. Come what may, they say, and it's a big load off my mind.
Just this week another two guys were posted out to RP. One went to the Guards camp, and the other to Commando camp. I congratulated them. Sad, though, since one of them, Ashwin, I loved to talk to. He was the only one I could have spontaneous debates with regarding marijuana, piracy, and the death sentence.
I bumped into Jayden again this week during lunch. He's lucky enough to be able to go home after office hours. That leaves him a lot of time to do whatever he wants then. I spoke to him again yesterday online and he called upon me to help him in making a short film he was planning. Needless to say, I'm honored, and I would love to pick up a camera again to shoot a film with him. My creative juices are fermenting again and I'm in need to let quite a few farts off.
I caught the Pulau Hantu show yesterday on OKTO. I was amazed... amazed at what turned out. Wow... I'm sorry if anyone watched that. It was miles away than what I was expecting. They didn't even mask out my face for the human torch stunt! It was clear as day!
It's my sister's birthday today and we had an early "celebration" a couple of days ago down at Eatzi, SAFRA.
It's become my dad's default eatery whenever we have a celebration. Cheap prices, quiet ambience and nothing too lavish. I love western food... real ones... and ordered the Meat Lover's meal that I should say hit me in the right spot.
We don't really hang out as a family and I don't really complain about that. It's never come across to me as something that requires attention. Anyone could easily foretell how our dinners would end - my dad will start talking about his dreams on something like money, house, or how the family should bond, then my sister would say something against it, I would chip in, then we'll have this sort of debate which usually ends in my father blabbering about religion and culture with my mother occasionally nodding her head and commenting on how right my dad is. We then keep quiet and let him talk. Personally, I find it useless to argue once he's in that mode. It always ends up with a bad taste in my mouth. And I never liked have these dinners.
I think we, my sister and I, hit the nail right on the head when we argued we weren't brought up in the "traditional", "normal" way.
I'm glad though my dad heeded my advice that I told him on his birthday on the first week of BSLC - that he should start exercising... from brisk walking, at least. He's swimming now at SAFRA and I just received my SAFRA card this weekend. Well that's just great for him.
No plans were made with Joey or the guys this weekend. Well, actually there were, but the plans disintegrated as the hours went by. I didn't even call Nick this week simply because I didn't want to. Everyone's busy now with their own commitments and I don't wanna get involved. I guess it's just one of those things that will eventually come and the faster I accept it, the better.
I think that's one of the biggest lessons in life. Besides, I may have been a bit of a clingy prick lately.
Rearranging myself, I got back to what was important and that was running the stunt company, doing research, reading the news and putting the left side of my brain to work.
I'm currently using Minefield from Mozilla, the creators of Firefox. It's a sort of in its alpha stage but it's fast. Very fast. I'd recommend it while Google Chrome is still getting things ironed out.
My guitar is getting a lot of love from me now. You'd find me every night with my little baby just strumming and fingering her while reading notes of "Don't Cry" by Guns and Roses. It's a lot of fun and it's an avenue for me to silently weep away all the heartaches of missing that special someone. What? You didn't know? I'm in love.
I carry around a thick journal with me everywhere I go in Pasir Laba. I made up a little bag out of the gas mask pouch they gave us and some were quite intrigued in what the hell I was carrying. The CQ even took a new one out for me to fix up for him.
I doodle anything whenever the situation permits and started drawing web designs and headers. The new header you see is a result of one of those scribbled drawings.
The Stunt Production website, abandoned as it looks now, was a little project I did for the company. It's my first website and I still have nightmares from those dark days of Dreamweaver and Filezilla. I've matured a wee bit from those days and drew out a new web design on my journal. The result, of course, is the one of the left after a couple of hours on Photoshop. One of the biggest problems I had on the current website was how confusing and plain everything was.
Then that's another problem... it stops there. I still have no freaking idea how to code and this "Dummies Guide to Dreamweaver CS3" is kinda useless right now. I'll save that for next week. Time to book in.
A cigarette never tasted so good. I looked across me and gazed into the reflection of the Altis. There, Joey was leaning beside me, dressed smartly casual as usual. We both took another puff. What the hell were we doing at Yishun Dam?!
It's become the norm to spend the company of another by emo-ing at some random place in the middle of the night. But I don't think about it anymore.
We had a whole week of field camp and, luckily (in a way), I was excused from uniform and out-field so I had the delightful opportunity of sitting in the office. Carrying stores out of the tonner? Pfft... I'll hide here under the conference table, thank you.
I did manage to do some different things. Once, we had a trainee who reported sick in the middle of the night just as I was about to sleep. I knew I couldn't sleep anyway so I accompanied him up to his bunk, the showers (yea... sigh), and finally to the MO at midnight.
To manage my loneliness, I brought over my guitar and iPod. People seem to wonder why did I bring an electric guitar without an amp.
I hate going to sleep now. My brain starts working overtime and I start to wonder and fear for things that don't exist. I play the song "Champagne Supernova" on a loop. It's a nice song, and it brings me back to the times I was back in my Yankee bunk and having this ass of a rat climbing into my bed to share my iPod.
Four of our thirteen OOCs have been posted out to the guardhouse. It's good though... they got rid of a couple of bastards. I smiled as they left. I think I've moved on.
I hung around Eunos MRT again yesterday just sitting on the seat across the 7-11. I've been here a couple of times before, sitting on the same seat and placing my hands on the steel pillars. I was looking forward to bringing Justing over to Daryl's place for some fun together with Joey and Nick. Let's just say it didn't happen and Joey and I were back in the car again, driving aimlessly.
The rest of the night consisted of us playing out the MMORPG lifestyle of traveling to towns and meeting people. After that, traveling again to the direction the wind blows.
We spoke at lengths about the economic recession. When I received my bank account transaction letter I took it and met up with Joey to show it to him. I was shocked at how much my SAF allowance has been deducted - close to a hundred dollars. God fuck me for signing up for the magazines and cards and useless nothings during BMT. I mean, who would have thought that your bloody TIMES magazine will come only after BMT? And where are our free gifts and SAFRA card?!
Joey and I came up with plans on how to cut costs. We calculated our smokes and meals. It's a freaking burden to smoke now. A pack of Reds cost close to 12 dollars. I finish a pack in two days!
Being and OOC doesn't help at all, financially. With the freedom of a permstaff on vacation, I've been eating most of my meals at the canteen. Don't blame me... the canteen food I've been sent to sucks. I spend at least 5 dollars a day at the canteen. Let's not count the times I wander aimlessly at the gift shop. It's really not that I have something to spend... there's really no rhyme or reason for me to visit the gift shop. But I'm always captivated to enter and look around at the items... even though I've seen all of them hundreds of millions of times.
We planned to buy an account book that we'll keep with us. I figured, why stop there? And we agreed to challenge each other to see who has saved the most by the end of the month. I guess I'll have to live poor. No more dreams of buying leather jeans. We drove over to Salvation Army at Upper Serangoon the next day. I was looking for a new pair of slim-cut jeans. Or maybe I could get that leather jeans I've always wanted.
I'm amazed at how big their collection was. I felt like a hippy walking down their isles and rummaging through their items. Who knows, I might find something unique. I did, actually. I found a stack of flasks. They're tiny and concealable. Great for smuggling whiskey in. I paid the cashier five dollars.
Joey got himself a hell of a heavy silver watch for about eight dollars. It looks cool and futuristic with the LEDs and sleek chrome finish. I asked him what was that for?
"I'm buying this to chiong-sua." He was serious.
As we were shopping around the furniture areas, I can't help but think how much I could save if I ever wanted to furnish my room. There were tables that were still strong. Some just needed a bit of touch up. TVs and LCDs were going at rock-bottom prices and tables were aplenty. Just think of the money I can save!
I'm waiting for that one guy to donate away his 24 inch LCD TV. My CRT died infront of me last week, leaving me with only one monitor to look at now. Oh well, it served a good seven years.
I called back our old friend, Jimmy Low, and I asked him for some help. I needed to kick-start my savings account after the bombing a couple of weeks back. Shamelessly I asked if there was work in the weekends. I didn't hope for much - it's difficult for us to get hired in Singapore. They say we're too expensive and niche.
I was surprised though that there's a shoot this 28th that's run by the Army (apparently). They needed explosions so we're coming down to give them some. I hope I could come. In times like now, having just another 50 dollars means another week for survival.
OKTO, the new channel by Arts Central, would be showing "Pulau Hantu" on the 26th of this month. This film's one of my biggest breaks... especially when I was stunt doubling for at least 3 guys (and a girl) and acted as myself in the last few scenes. I remember carrying over my Ultimax 100 everywhere I went on set until the director forgot that it was meant to be used in a scene. Well the scene went on ahead without the SAW and we had to replace it with another weapon later on. I wrote a bit about the shoot here in this post.
Another week, another rambling blog entry. I'm currently in 'Zen' mode where everything just zips by around me and I don't really give a damn. I need some excitement... something to break this monotony of everyday military life.
Having a girlfriend doesn't sound like a bad idea anymore.
I sat up from my bug-infested bed and reached around for my phone. I was pretty much still wide-awake and I sent Jayden a text. It was more of a nod towards his direction about the whole issue of him thinking of getting out of course.
I was stepping on puddles towards his company the next drizzling afternoon. My sergeant major was chasing for a tonner and I was there soaking wet in my long 4s after unloading a big part of the armskote into a tonner and handling the trainees as they perpetually gave that blur look. It was there that I saw someone familiar walk out of the company office. It was Jayden and we made eye contact. We communicated via hand signals and I got the message that he OOC-ed. I didn't see him again till just this morning when he had to rush for the chains that hindered my CSM's rover from moving off. There simply wasn't any time to sit around. Next thing I knew, I was in the front seat of the rover going over to Foxtrot, where I spotted Justin massaging his ankle in a dim corner of the parade square, and then met up with Kyle by chance at the smoking point. I kinda like this whole "MMORPG-esque" environment.
Kyle received his posting today, and Jayden has been transferred out to HQ... not sure how long.
I'm spending most of my time now reading the newspapers and sneaking the TV on to watch Channel News Asia... much to the groans and moans of my fellow OOCs. I'm very anxious about the current economic crisis. I'm anxious because I bombed all my savings just the other day on.. let's just say.. "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder". I'm also anxious because it might probably mean that all this money everyone's been saving will go to waste when tomorrow's hundred dollars could be worth today's one dollar. I'm anxious as well at the direction the US is going; government versus people. I'm living in a very interesting period of this decade but here I am sitting in the office, shut from the outside world and cringing at the yellowed breath of authority and government.
It's annoying when you have to sneak and peek every single time at the newspapers just to read the news. And I mean real news, not the sports section... or even the "Life!" section. But first-come-first-serve doesn't work here and I'll just have to wait for the next few hours only to have the newspaper thrown across my face to signify the "priority user" is done with it.
I haven't had an intelligent conversation for days until one evening, while I was letting my thumbs rest from a full day of loading magazines for the SAW machine gun, a commander came and expressed his bemusement of my atheist status. I spoke to him about it, and held my breath for that point in the conversation that would allow us to speak more freely, and deeper, on the subject. Never really came, though, and I didn't continue any further.
While other OOCs regaled in their new-found freedom and how great it was to "slack around", I wondered if we were on the same level. I hated sitting around and I hated being eyed at as if I were disabled. I wanted out... a post out. I did a lot of work simply to get the thoughts out of my head. I had a lot of ideas on my mind and the creative juices started flowing. But without access to a computer, a camera, nor a simple notepad to draw on, I resorted to staring at the blank wall. It's pretty much isolation... which in itself is torture.
I walked into the MO's office today and had a little chat with him. I walked out with an Attend C status on the grounds of slight depression. I needed the break, I guess.
I scrambled to my room yesterday afternoon around 2pm. I threw down my duffel bag and got on the comp. I fired up Firefox and it loaded up my usual tabs, ready for me to get to work; mainly reading up on the news and trying out some experiments.
I've spent the entire past week in the company office as an OOC personnel. Since Monday, I've watched as the numbers grew. We now have eight OOC personnel. The numbers are growing.
It's been a great time so far. I'm not saying this for the sake of my own consolation. A load was lifted off my chest when I received the "Unfit for OCS/SISPEC" letter that the MO gave me. I don't know why - maybe because finally I had some direction and no longer walking around aimlessly. I didn't have to go back up to my bunk anymore and sit around as my other bunk mates studied their materials for the upcoming test. I could have studied, but I didn't - I was going to go out of course... or will I? I took the test as well, and I failed, and I was confused on what to do next. Now that I was officially out of it, I beamed happily.
Our job scope was simple - sit in the office from 530hrs to lights off... which could either be at six in the evening or twelve midnight. We had to answer calls coming into the office and do the usual paperwork. I took this large amount of ball-hanging time to read. I bought a book from a second hand book store in Beach road called "This Man's Army.". Again, it was a non-fiction account of a soldier in the GWOT (Global War on Terror). Back in BMT I was reading the journal of a WW2 Sergeant in the European theatre titled, "Roll Me Over". It used to be the attraction of reading about the action in war... but then after that you realise that's just a small part of it. I've learnt quite a lot on books like this and I realised it made no difference between being in the SAF or in another military. Whatever you see here in the SAF happens elsewhere in other Armies. The waiting, the politics, the training, the difference between officers and sergeants, enlisted and conscripted... I don't worry so much anymore.
I had the privelege of being the CSM's pet and he has given me grace by letting me handle the armskote with him. I'm not sure whether it was because he knew what I did before I enlisted. I dont know, he once came to me and asked,"Audi, you were a stuntman?"
Aside from that, he brought me along almost everywhere he went. I got to see more of Pasir Laba Camp and its other schools. He brought me over to deal with drawing equipment, checking for damages, etc etc. I got to handle the signal sets and had a fiddle with the Night Vision Goggles. I watched as the other units trained. I listened in to conversations and observed how everyone behaved. It's something I do whenever I'm at someplace new. I got to see the real Army, from the support side. It's one hell of an interesting place.
We were left alone, mostly. Our CSM allowed us a certain degree of freedom. It's a good and bad thing, really. I found myself smoking more than usual. I'm talking about a packet in two days. I hope it's just me getting used to the freedom. We could go over to the canteen whenever we liked. I wore my smart 4 wherever I went and no one said a thing when I had my admin shirt in my number 4. We self-managed and came up with a rotation schedule. Of course, the bottom line is that we do our work when we have to. Things were fine when the number was small... at six. With more people coming in, I can sense that this little heaven we created would be polluted with the smelly armpits of self-righteous "volunteers". I had a glimpse of this during book out.
I sit outside the office sometimes, down on the floor. On my right, just across the 2 metre wide road, is Charlie. I hang around there as I watch Jayden and Junior train. I wonder what they think when they see me there "slacking". I didn't seem to be able to spot Jayden at all after the little break.
I take my own little walks sometimes towards the cookhouse. I had a look at Sergeant Rocky in the Chevron Square and the three other statues at the Leader's Heritage Trail. I like Sergeant Rocky a lot. I used to think his pose was a botched attempt at looking anything sort of inspiring. I think I'm beginning to like it though. They sell his little statue for SGD150 in the Gift Shop nearby. I might want to order it. They allow laser engraving on the plaque. I should put, "Sergeant Rocky, whom I never got to meet."
Yes, deep in the back of my head, I've had regrets of being an OOC. I met up with Nicholas on Tuesday night over at Clementi. It hasn't been a particularly good day - We actually had a big party planned by Jayden, then he had guard duty, a few other people started disappearing or booked out late, Justin had some of his own problems and Sgt. Lyndon fell asleep when I forgot to return his call. At the end of the day, only Junior and Joey came besides us. And of course, Sgt. Zaini.
I couldn't help but feel weird as I recounted my experience in SISPEC to Nick. He bent forward as I spoke, intently listening, since he really wanted to be with us. I spoke about out training, the little nuances and vignettes we normally had, all this with the knowledge I'm speaking about it from a third person's perspective. I was recounting someone else's experience, it seems, but through my own eyes. It's a split personality if you ever came across one. My main goal then was to never let it be known that I had OOC-ed just the day before.
I missed Nick a lot and that day he had cheered up from the breakdown he had half a week before. We became like little kids on the playground - making little pacts and having borderline homosexual themes about what we would do to remember "those times". He planned to print pics I took to put in his cupboard. He then mentioned something about printing that little pic that I we took together (Justin was cameraman). The thing is, that pic was a blatant act of anti-machosism. And I don't ever want it to get out.
I was tasked to be a stand-in at the SISPEC guard room on the day of book out, which was their Games Day. Another one of the OOC followed me and I took on the role of "that bastard who never does work" and continued reading, "Death of Innocents". I watched the CCTV monitors and had a go with the gate barriers. I got bored and took a smoke.
I did something I shouldn't do - leave my post - and went over to the field to catch the hoo-ha. It was a really random thing. It was then that I heard a very familiar cheer and spotted a formation that looked so familiar. I was delighted - and pissed - when I realised it was Delta Company with a cheer led by non other than Justin. It felt good to see him in such great energy and mood, coordinating the other 20 guys, and it pissed me off as well because that was OUR dance. It was Yankee's! I learnt those moves!
I stayed around in the hot sun, waiting for the cheer to come up. It did come.. about an hour later. I took a stand infront of the entire school as one by one each company came up to do their thing. I noticed then that there was something different about my company and the others. Mine was still as a stone. The others were going nuts with the impromptu cheers and jeers. What does that mean?
When Delta came up, I leaned forward. There was our good friend, standing front centre. And he just went all out with the routine. It was the usual - lead in, dance, solo, finale. It was fucking fantastic. Simply amazing. The cheer ended, I clapped, and couldn't stop laughing like a little girl. His commanders were cheering for him, and I listened in as they took little playful stabs at the other commanders on how fantastic they were with Justin around. And I'm not exaggerating this. It looked like he had a good chance to go into OCS.
But of course, they didn't win anything, and I expected that. I took a turn and left the area.
Back out here, booking in soon, I can't help but notice a lot of people feeling depressed in SISPEC. I don't agree it's the training. From what I've seen it's a no brainer. Jayden's thinking of quitting and Justin just came in with the thought of giving it up... what.... even after that fantastic cheer?
I'd have to digest all this and think about it as I lay in the Company's conference room. Personally, though, I feel it doesn't really matter. I was more concerned with the current economic crisis and the other developments across the world. It really doesn't look too good of a future, and I wished I could be kept updated everyday... at least through a real newspaper... none of that New Paper crap.
I'm looking forward to Oct 7th 2008. It sounds like a special date.
That's it. I admit it. I hate this festive season.
There's never been a time of the year that stretches my patience so thin that it'll collapse at any moment.
I don't know why I don't like it. Maybe it's the thing about reaching home and being greeted not by the sweet sound of silence.. or normality... but the irritating shuffling of feet and furniture as my parents (or, mom, more specifically) scramble to tidy the house because some aunt I don't even remember is coming. Then again, that's the thing about me, I have been so detached with my relatives that they become strangers. I don't see it as a problem, really, more like I led my life to a course way off their predictable racial maps. It's difficult to click anymore with my cousins.
I never liked dressing up at this time of the month. I have always found the material very uncomfortable, gawdy and downright ugly. I could never seem to fit into one of those outfits without feeling awkward. My father is the kind who believes in racial supremacy and he likes to mention how smart we all look in these outfits and that we should be proud to uphold our culture. I compare him to a stereotypical bible thumper from the Southern States of America. Yes, it's that bad. It's one of the reasons why I don't like talking to him.
Quite frankly, I love wearing my jeans, my converse shoes and a tight black T-shirt along with some funky belt. Now, I don't see why that would mean I'm "disrespecting" the elders cause I'm not wearing traditional *costumes*. Then, why not let me wear a suit? A lot of people are wearing them now. Oh, because it's too "Christian-y". Wow... I could suffocate in this blanket of ignorance.
Visiting my relatives is another thing. I don't remember how we're related, who the hell did they marry and when the fuck did they have so many babies? I try to tolerate the little brats running around... they're kids... and settle on watching the TV. The recent economic crisis was something I wanted to catch up on, included other world news that I missed while I was in camp. Time is of the essence. Just as the news on 5 came on my dad comes over and changes it to some variety show on the malay channel. I gave him a stink eye but I can't do much because for some reason, everyone wants to watch that damn show that's been on repeat a million times over, every fucking year. Buy the fucking DVD, damn you!
I finally was able to catch the news on Channel News Asia, not forgetting the usual stuffy environment caused by small houses with an unbelievable amount of laced curtains and frilly textiles covering every single window. Of course, I had to sit near the TV just to hear anything since behind me everyone was talking about this and that person and how great he is to "triumph" over "the Chinese".
I was asked a few times about NS and I told them I was in SISPEC. It was the usual filler conversation but one comment striked me hard. An old man of mine asked,"So after this course you'll be a sergeant?". Yes. "Good. You must get it. So that we have more malays being sergeants and not always the Chinese."
I felt like throwing plates. My thought process worked on overdrive. I wanted to tell him off on a variety of different topics. I felt like pointing him towards Malaysia. I wanted to take a person of these two races, compare them, and show him who puts in more work. I simply do not understand this whole racial thing. It's like the black-and-white thing in the US. If white men win, they are discriminating. If blacks win, it's fair. Then comes around this whole "Affirmative Action" thing.
Why can't people see that when a bomb explodes over our heads, no one will be able to tell the difference between who was brown, who was yellow, who was a Muslim, and who was a Chrisitian from all that gooey pink mess?
The amount of ignorance I face every time during this festive season has fuelled my hatred for anything to do with it. I did try to speak to someone about it - my dad, and it has always failed. I figured being raised in a time where being uncircumcised got you the stink eye is resistant to any kind of change of today's more broad-minded and westernised world. I enjoy the company of my friends - a big majority of them are those they call "uncouth". I enjoy today's world and believe in the phrase, "that all men are created equal & independent" by Thomas Jefferson in the DoI.
How I wish if the next person who asks me why I'm an atheist or "have been led astray" that I could just point out to the people in my home, the way the people of this race think, the way they contradict themselves and the way the parade themselves around. I don't need a crutch. I don't need to "follow the masses" nor do i need to be unique. I just don't want to be fed prejudice and discrimination from the get-go.
