I picked Joey up early in the morning of the 20th. SISPEC was waiting for us, and we sat in the care having idle conversations. It was a reflection on whatever that was on our minds for the past few days - we were afraid, unsure, and unwilling. It has become a default answer whenever someone asks what are our aims in SISPEC - "I'll try my best." The truth behind those words, though, were something less optimistic.
We came in just on time thanks to and event along Pasir Laba Highway. I think it was the "Biggest Jam in The World" competition. We bumped into Jayden and then waited to check our postings. Justin had already left earlier on and was posted to Delta Coy. Joey went over to Hotel, Jayden to Charlie and I went over to Bravo Company.
A lot has been mentioned online about Bravo Company, and I've heard gossips about the company. Well, after spending a week with them, I can honestly say that Bravo company isn't what others have made out to be. Just a quick glance across the parade square at Charlie and we breathe a sigh of relief that were weren't there.
I came into to SISPEC in a very unstable condition, mentally. There were a lot of things on my mind. I was homesick, or rather, I missed Yankee Company. A lot. And I cannot deny the many times I've almost teared as I sat in my bunk or on the parade square thinking of Yankee Company. Right now, we were exposed to a more realistic taste to what Army training was like. It didn't help when I realised I was the only Yankee Platoon 1 soldier in the entire company. A quick look at Jayden and I saw six other Yankee Platoon 1 guys with him. Loneliness crept in quickly.
I started the first day with a status from a specialist (Attend B, light duties) and it ends on the 3rd of the next month. I thought that's good - maybe I could start SISPEC slowly.
Training wasn't tough. At least, it wasn't that they told you to do a hundred more sets. It was more of having different training sessions one after the other. We were given a lot of talks and lectures on a variety of subjects and distrubuted materials to read up on. I find them very interesting. Every night I would spend a lot of time in the dark after lights out to read the materials.
Being on status meant sitting around doing the usual menial work and sitting in one place either day-dreaming or having empty conversations with other status-es. Soon enough, I started having a lot of thoughts in my mind. It didn't help and I became mentally worn out as the days went by.
I think it's been made known by other of my consideration of getting OOC (out of course) from SISPEC primarily because of a medical condition. It's sad when I think about it. Back in Yankee I always liked getting down and dirty and donning on my SBO attire complete with my trademark knee and elbow pads. I took training seriously and had the ambitious goal to enter OCS.
But then, here I lay, on the cold hard floor with water pipes leaking over my head, watching my company training on the parade square. It's demoralizing when you have this major urge to stand up and fight but reality sets in and you find that your body doesn't allow it to happen. It hurts more when all your life you've looked forward to being a proper foot soldier.
Loneliness drove me to a slight depression and I found myself walking around aimlessly on the ground floor of the company just reading bits and pieces of paper on the walls. There was Charlie with the biggest number of Yankees and every one else in other companies had someone they knew in their platoon. Of course, you could argue that I should go ahead and make new friends. I have my personal reasons and opinions, and if I were to say more about it, I could be chased after by the authorities for being too honest.
I finally met the Yankee guys from Charlie in the cookhouse. My eyes lit up and I finally was able to speak. The meeting didn't last long and I had to leave. I remember feeling so motivated to carry on. Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad after all.
It didn't really happen, and I was sent over to another cookhouse because of "administrative matters". It was good in a way, I could meet up with more Yankee people at the other cookhouse. I met up with Justin, Kyle, Derricks, Faizal, so and so forth. I couldn't be much happier.
Apparently, though, that wasn't the case. I was bugged out of my mind of something and it didn't go away. I ended up in a worse state that I began with. I wanted to speak to the commanders but there simply was no time. There was no one to turn to to speak about my problem - I'm on the road to OOC-ing and down PES-ing but I still wanted to fight and train.
I weighed every single pros and cons of staying in and OOC-ing. I wanted to get into Combat Photography. But I still wanted to go out-field. I still wanted to be SAW Gunner. I still had MDC on my mind. I still thought about Justin in Delta fighting for his place in OCS. I thought about Nicholas training in SAFTI. I thought about Sgt. Lyndon's little gift for us the day before POP - an IPPT Gold badge. I dream of the day I can sew that badge onto my uniform. I was tied between fulfilling pacts, promises and hopes, and doing something meaningful for my future.
I remember it was Thursday night, the lowest point I've ever been. I sent Sgt. Lyndon an SMS that read, "Could you take us back to Yankee?"
After that was a chain of SMS-es between us. Sgt. Lyndon did what he always did for us; acting as a leader. He told me to move on. Things like this happen, and that's just the way it is. Of course, I knew that, but having it being told by someone else hit me hard in the head. Maybe...
Justin then called and we had quite a conversation regarding the other guys. It was just the way it was - everyone was unmotivated and thinking of getting out. We missed each other. We missed Rocky Hill. Justin and I then had a more personal conversation and the final tone was a more status-quo-esque "we do what we have to do and we can't do anything about it".
Then, I was pleasantly suprised when I received another call. It was from Nicholas. I wondered how he was doing in OCS and no one has heard from him since. I picked the phone, gladly.
The happiness didn't last long. Within the first few words, I was listening to the tearful uncontrollable sobs of a dear friend. Nicholas was breaking down right there and then. I asked what went wrong... was it the punishments?
No, he said, it was the stress level. I listened in as he cried over how lonely he was there, just across the road. It came to the point he was begging for Justin and me to cross over to OCS.
"Nick, I can't do that. You'll have to hang on for another two months.". A lump formed at the back of my throat as I completed that sentence. Two months. Two months!
Nick then said, "No, I want you guys to cross over NOW!"
Was this real? Did my friend here just lose his mind and sense of reality? My mind flashed back to the days we were in BMT. The little playful things we did and the things we talked about.
I tried to calm him down. Wasn't this what you wanted? You always told me you wanted to get into OCS. Didn't you tell me that, Nick? You got what you wanted, stay in it.
It felt like I was listening to him and he was in hell and wanted to get out. I couldn't help him. No one could help him. I couldn't even bear to tell him that I was on status for the whole week. I couldn't even bear to tell him what the others have been thinking. I said, "Just hang in there. Before you know it Justin will be there with you."
At the back of my head, I knew chances were slim for anyone of us to cross over. That was the harsh reality. Nick is pretty much on his own now, and all we could do was support him over a chain of SMS-es.
After that conversation, I couldn't sleep at night. I was thinking and thinking. Choices. I repeated that word many times over the next day. Choices. Should I carry on with BSLC, just to fulfill a pact Nick, Justin and I made? The risk being hurting my body more. Or should I think about my career? Even so, what are the chances of being put into Combat Photography?
The next day, I told my PC, "I want to continue with BSLC. I want to go to OCS."
His subtle reaction pretty much spelt it all. Chances were small.
I'd like to thank Jayden for giving me an honorable mention on his blog, twice, today. Thanks to everyone for the compliments on the photos and the blog. I'm afraid this post wont have photos of the same standards as before since I'm rushing for bed. You're looking for the previous three posts. Editing's a bitch.
On the morning of our posting results, 19th September 2008, I received two calls from Joey and Justin. I got off my bed, woke my computer up and scanned through my list of BMT friends on MSN. The heat was on.
I won't say we were given a wide variety of vocations. A lot of us went over to SISPEC. The others had vocations like Armour Driver, Engineer, Recce, Sea Soldier and so on. I think one of them had "Armored Driver". At that point of time, it didn't sound so bad. I'd love to be an armored driver.
I logged in to check my posting. There you go - it was SISPEC. The feeling was... how should I put it? My reaction was more of a 'meh' than an 'OMG!'. Justin called me and we talked from then on.
We learnt who were the four in our platoon who got into OCS. Nick was one of them. I was happy for him - he wanted to go in. He wanted to go in, but thought he couldn't make it. And that was the confusing part. I met him later that day and he had that 'meh' reaction as well.
Justin was a different case, though. "I think I've crashed and burned already man." He told me that over the phone.
Reality hit us all pretty hard that day. It was an annoying reality. A few people called me that day and the conversations were all the same. We all debated on why Mr. Asshole got into OCS, why the other person with a better heart for others became a man. We debated, and tried to reason, and came to a rough conclusion to everything. It wasn't so much of the accuracy of the conclusion that mattered - we just needed to calm our anger.
I met up with Nick in the afternoon at Bukit Batok. We were meant to go over to Sentosa where there was a gathering but it didn't happen. One thing led to another and I found myself in his house.
Again, things weren't settled yet and we hung around his window, smoking and drinking, as we talked about things that mattered most to us. I have a feeling, though, that we were both afraid of the future.
Personally, I'm afraid of training now. During the course of BMT I had endured and experienced quite a few things that I would call "weird". It's not really a good sign, and I'm afraid my body doesn't allow me to excel to the point I want it to. It sucks when you're a man and you can't even hold yourself up.
We moved on to town again and Justin hooked up with us over there. Nick left, and I had another honest talk with Justin. It's sad to see him trying to build himself up again from the morning news. He pretty much settled on, "Let's see how it goes."
That night we had a round of LAN at Cyberdome under Meridian. Junior joined us later. I needed something else to think about. Call of Duty 4 didn't work that well and soon things got very down.
We gathered for a while after the game and caught up on Junior's recent trip to Genting with Joey, Daryl and Wei Ming. I remember Nicholas standing there and I felt really proud of him. There really isn't much to it - we just went through BMT together. All the nights we lay beside each other talking about our dreams... it became very emotional.
Before we split, he stood there, waving. I knew he had more to show than just a simple twiddling goodbye with his fingers so we opened up and exchanged hugs. Finally, maybe, this was the end. OCS and SISPEC, we have heard stories and we knew we'd be different after it all. Even now, some of us have turned single. When Sgt. Lyndon spoke about how difficult it was to keep relationships while in the Army I didn't believe him that much. But I guess it is part and parcel of NS life. Women may or may not understand the things we go through. Even my father, who has never served NS, doesn't understand. We're having fun, but it's the kind of fun where you're also watching behind your backs every now and then.
I met up with Uncle Jimmy the next day for a job. We were involved with the opening of the Kallang Leisure Park and had some wire work to do. Even he noticed that I've changed, if only a little bit. He was always the one who gave me advice and guide me to the correct path.
He then said, "I can't always be there to guide you. I know you are the kind who must have someone to lead you. But I cannot. I'm not your father and if I were to treat you like my son, that'll be wrong on my part. I have a son of my own."
That night I slept right away. I was awake since 7am this morning. I wanted to pack my things for SISPEC but only managed to finish at around 11pm. I really didn't feel like going. Maybe it's the lack of motivation, or I had a different objective already that goes beyond NS; my career.
From here on starts a new chapter of my NS life. I won't be blogging about it like I did for BMT. Not after the previous incident with the authorities. Instead, I'll keep it all in a hidden place just for keepsake. That's just me, if I don't write or take photos about it, I will forget. I don't think I'd like to forget anything from times like this.
Ten days since we passed-out. I finally met up with Nicholas a few days ago. It's the first time we hooked up again after he disappeared after the parade.
It's been a hellish week. Not because we're rushing... but because we're rushing for no reason at all. We're neither here, nor there, unable to pursue our dreams nor unable to sit back and relax. Everybody's anticipating their postings which will be out tomorrow, Friday.
I spent the week sitting in front of the computer, my chair wet with the humidity my dirty ass creates. I played Armed Assault for hours on end, kept up with the current Internet news and trends (I caught the stock market crash a day before it came out in our local news.) and had a go again at website design and building.
As the days went by I became very anxious and fidgety. Staying at home was a bore - I had my mom nagging me to clean my room and my dad calling me every other hour telling me to remember who God was and how magnificent He is. My field pack, LBV, helmet and duffel bag lay across my room, opened, but still stuffed with zip lock bags containing my clothes. I dressed up and went out.
I caught with some of my old friends. I can't say I looked forward to meeting them. We've come to a point where we have to admit that we're entirely different and stubborn. It was the usual yada-yada-talking-amongst-themselves all over again I didn't bother much. My fingers were itchy, though, and I had this itch to spend - Spend all the money I had.
I took cabs to and fro home and town, bought coffee from those cafes, bought a new cap without trying it on and walked over to Borders at Wheelock and bombed a wad of cash on books like "The Dummies Guide to Dreamweaver CS3". Then, of course, take a cab home. My legs were tired.
When I met Nicholas, I bluffed him into thinking I broke my arm against my room door on purpose. I don't know whether that actually rushed him to come down. I think not... I waited over two hours for him. Bastard.
I was looking for clothes, and he was sporting enough to bring me a couple of rounds around ORCHARD-FUCKING-ROAD. Seriously, what the fuck?
I did saw some clothes that were nice. As he showed me more and more jeans and shirts I came up with ideas for a new image I'd like to adopt. Back in my head, however, I knew I couldn't buy anything that day - I was broke from the days before.
Justin came along after a while and he's been up with a few of his own things. Just chillin', he says.
Of cigarettes and alcohol. These two things accompany many soldiers in their free time. Or maybe not so free time. In any case, these two have been my best friends since I passed out. I seem to have smoked a lot more than usual. Nick and I talked about it. We kinda figured out it was because we've been controlled on our smoking for the past three months. I mentioned there were times I didn't want to smoke at all when there was a smoke break. I could do away with it, but it was a fucking smoke break!
Freedom! Outside in the civilian world - Freedom! And we light another one up. Our eyes look from the corners in an arrogant manner as we flick open our boxes and twirl our lighters. We're free from rules! Free from regimentation! We shall light this stick to celebrate! And then another stick, and another. It doesn't stop.
I wouldn't have thought much about smoking if it wasn't made so obvious to me the whole time in camp.
Joey and a few others left for Genting the last weekend. That gave me good reason to hang around the house. I really didn't feel like doing anything. Uncle Jimmy, even him, the guy whom I respected so much, I didn't even bother calling. I know what he'll say - I've gotten lazy.
Maybe I have. Or maybe I'm tired. Or maybe I'm too involved with something. I don't know.
I met up with Daryl, an old friend of mine from FSV, and he drove me down to Paulaner for a swig. Nicholas was supposed to come along but I think he had more important things to do at the last minute... like tea-bagging his water bottle.
The world couldn't have been better towards me than the time I got into Daryl's car. It was an overwhelming sense of familiarity. That whole night we became what we were - young adults. We drove around Singapore (he got lost), ate at Jalan Kayu and to top it all off, he played a CD, set at random tracks, and the two tracks it played were Guns and Roses' Sweet Child O' Mine and Paradise City; part of the album that actually got me through the lame and boring nights in the bunk at Tekong.
By the time Paradise City ended, we were infront of my place. No more speeding down the highway, no more music blasting out of the car, no more ferocious winds blowing into our eye sockets. I bid him goodbye and got out of the car. It was back to normality again.
Kwang Wei entered NS on the 15th of this month. It was a Monday, I think. I woke up in the afternoon, way past 12pm. A big no-no. I checked my phone and had a message from him.
His message hit me in the face - he was serving his BMT with Yankee Company!
An unexpected rush went over my entire being. I felt like screaming it out to the whole world. I felt like gathering people on the streets and getting them into a circle and sing the "Yankee Boleh" cheer. Even as I was bathing I couldn't stop giggling.
The image of Yankee - of its bunk, company line, sergeants, they kept coming back and I giggled with pride. I called Kwang Wei over and over for a few days but never was answered. I sms-ed Sergeant Lyndon about the news. I finally did get Kwang Wei after Paulaner and I spoke with him at lengths about wherever he was now. He's in Platoon one as well, but in section 2. He's sleeping on Faizal's bed, the guy with the fastest SOC timing in our platoon.
I went further to ask who was sleeping on my bed. I told him by rifle number, its serial, and where Justin slept. I knew it was pointless but I kept telling him to pass on the message to the people who will take over my rifle and my bed and Justin's rifle and bed. I told him everything about every single detail about my rifle. For a moment, I thought I really did miss my rifle.
When Nicholas heard my story he chipped in (in between my stutters, no less) - we don't miss Yankee because of "Company Pride" or any of that. We don't live for the sake of others. Nicholas said we probably miss the smokers and the good sergeants and the environment. Probably. I think what we missed, though, was the daily routine and regimentation. It's been ingrained into our body clock that, I, at least, feel disorientated every morning when I wake up at home.
Maybe I should stop babbling on. I've lost the point of this entire segment.
As the days to our posting, our next goal, came nearer, I spent more time with Nick... only because the fucking dick ditched us the day before. I honestly wanted to leave him hanging this time. Then again, maybe this might be the last time any of us would ever meet again.
We went over to Zouk for their usual Mambo Night event. It's becoming less Mambo now and more generic-clubbing-music. They added new beam lights. It's cool and all but the place is too bright now to go nuts. Nick, Jarrell (MCM guy, we met before in school),Paul (MCM, don't know him, but is Sze Aik's platoon mate) and I spent about half an hour tapping our feet on the dance floor occasionally getting right into the middle in hopes we'll get high with all the bodies around us. It didn't happen, not even after a couple of drinks. We bailed for a couple of sticks and that was pretty much our night. I wasn't happy, to say the least. I wasn't satisfied yet.
Nick then came up with the idea to play LAN over at the Meridian. I had some fun there kicking his ass in Call of Duty 4. I shouted and jeered. The mood died quickly after that and we had supper at a place nearby.
We all talked about Army, again. Nick and I listened in to Paul and, I don't know, it made me miss my BMT. I still believe we haven't gone through a lot... but this feeling was overwhelming. We finally picked up our stuff to go home. Nick and I looked at each other.
He always made this sick joke (maybe it wasn't even a joke) that this was the last time we'll see each other. I got quite annoyed at that idea and I mocked him for saying things like that... it's not the last time!
Back of my mind, however, maybe it was. Maybe. I recalled the times we did random things to each other. Like the time I was minding my own business with Kyle and Nick comes over with the cheap-ass SAF shaver and proceeded to shave my legs. Or the couple of times I came over to his bed and we'd lay together and have random emo-talks about our dreams for the future. The night ended with us sleeping on the same bed. I'm thankful enough no commanders caught us sleeping together (almost did, though. Close call.). There was one morning where we woke up a bit later and when we falled in for 5BX a few of the other guy came over and asked,"Were you sleeping with Nicholas last night?"
Great, now I have homosexual tendencies.
Before we left Nicholas waved goodbye to me. I said bye and he extended his hands for a shake. I just knew what he was about to say.
So I didn't extend my hands out. I told him,"I refuse to shake your hands. I won't even acknowledge it. This is not the end."
With that, we split. Next week we'll be all over the place attending to our new units. It's a new chapter for all of us... and deep in my heart I hope we can enjoy each other's company as we always did for the past three months.
Was it... three days? Three days since I passed out.
I think we all had big plans of relaxing and partying after Wednesday. I can't say we didn't execute it, but we did. We smoked when we wanted, drank however we wanted and wore whatever the fuck we wanted. Finally, we were civilian again!
We weren't.
We went over to Daryl's place that Wednesday night. I brought over my 360 and we planned to get high on drinks. It didn't take long for me to fall into a deep sleep. I hadn't slept at all since the parade and drinking games never made much sense to me... God knows why I participate.
I was woken up at seven in the morning by Paris, Daryl's dog. It was cold and I found myself on wooden panels - I realized I spent the night at the balcony. He lived on the 22nd story.
I finally did get back home at around five in the evening and within the next hour I was out again to Outdoors beside Centrepoint. I was plagued by cough and flu since the 16km route march and I haven't been saving up much but I still took cabs. I cannot argue enough how right it is for us army boys to take cabs. Maybe it's the kind where transport has always been provided for us in the Army or that we're always in this sense of rush whenever we're back outside... am I alone on this?
My sister called me out that night to watch a couple of stand-up comics. Admission for me was free and pretty much everything I ordered was paid for by someone else. I don't know, I was still on a hangover from the previous night and needed a lot of sleep. If you had ever lived in a blur...
It's a few more days left before we get our postings. I haven't seen Nick since Wednesday. We had a plan to go over to Geylang to find some cake. A few days from now a few of the guys would be off to Genting for a holiday. I wonder where the rest will be. Where will I be? So many questions. So many uncertainties.
I graduated from BMTC1, Yankee Company, on the 10th of September 2008. My buddies might remember how unsatisfied I was as BMT came to an end. I think this picture sums up my feelings pretty well after the parade. At the end of the day, none of us went through BMT alone. These were the people I fought with, teared with, cheered with and trained with.
The Platoon One smokers.
Top Row from Left: Ah Boon, Junior, Kyle, Justin, Audi, Helmie, Joey.
Bottom Row from Left: Joseph, Derrick, Wei Ming, Sean Daryl.
Nicholas isn't in the picture, though.
What happens days after that, months after that, years... whether or not we'll still be in touch or slowly dwindle away, I have no idea. I will have fond memories from Yankee Company, though hazy as it may be.
The pictures from that day may seem insignificant to outsiders, but as I look through them they speak a million words. Thank you, Yankee Company.
I ran into some problems with the authorities last week because of my previous posts on NS life. That, of course, explains why they're missing now. I can only hope I've entertained a lot of you for the past weeks. What's going to happen in the near future, I have no idea. It's back to old school journals for me now. Btw, Nicholas was awarded Platoon Best Recruit. Congratulations, faggot! :)
It's been a week so far. I haven't gotten much sleep since the last week as we prepared for our performance... no, wait. I shouldn't talk about that either.
In any case, I went over for an audition with MDC (Music and Drama Company) as both their artiste and technician. I had to sing, act and dance. Well that few hours confirms the fact that I can't dance. I handed over my portfolio to the interviewer and that started the ball rolling. I think I did good.
I'll be passing out this Wednesday. BMT is finally over, and I have to write a reflection on it. I don't feel happy nor nostalgic at all as BMT nears it end. That sense of accomplishment... I seem to be missing it. Joey and Justin and I.. we talked about this before. I have forgotten my first day in BMT, the training, the events that happened. It's like, somehow, they were nothing significant.
I have already forgotten some of the people in my platoon and this ones I describe them as 'invisible' - they are there, but you don't see them. At the same time, I regret not noticing some of them earlier on. It's too late to make new friends now. Of all the things I remember about BMT, are the few people that hang around every now and then. And even then, I don't remember what we did. I only remember the feelings. Must be something I've been smoking.
I walked around the city alone yesterday. I have a new baby now... a Canon 450D. But I didn't spend the time snapping photos. Instead, I was in cabs just going to random places in town. Along Clarke Quay, River Valley, Chinatown. I was bugged by something, I don't know what. I've been smoking a lot more than usual but I keep feeling I left something undone. There wasn't a closure to something.
I thought once I had my first DSLR it'll take my mind of things. I didn't really help and I only managed to spend the rest of the night fidelling around with it and jumping back on aimless photoshopping. I didn't feel like a 'soldier'... I felt free. Even if it was just for a night. The more I discover new things, the more restricted I feel.
My things from the last book-out aren't even unpacked yet. I wanted to give my field pack a wash this weekend... meh.
When I woke up the next morning from the Esplanade show last Monday, I had major pains throughout my body. I was already sneezing by that time so I called the office and told him I might be down with a fever.
Well, it's Friday now and I'm still on the road to recovery.
It's a pretty funny fever, this one. I didn't get sick on Ubin, don't tell me I got sick at Esplanade. This fever was pretty big as well. I couldn't walk, stand up straight or even speak for long. Everything around me was yellow or had this yellow hue. For a moment I thought I had jaundice or something. Uncle Jimmy asked if I had offended anything.
I don't think so. If anything, I think our "brothers" have been pretty comfortable with me around.
Uncle Jimmy nursed me back to health with Chinese medicine and a round of 'gua sha' and within the day I was able to walk again. I recommend you get a round of gua sha massage from him. Works wonders.
This whole week when I was sick I can't really do much but lay down and day dream. I spent nights in the dark laying on my back and stretching my feet or feeling the bed frame... that sort of thing. This feeling.... this "childhood feeling"... I don't know if I'm the only one that recognizes it... the kind where you can feel, sense, smell and hear like you were back in primary school again... that feeling. When the feeling returned I was overjoyed in a way. It was a luxury because it brought me back to the time where responsibilities were lesser and you don't easily screw your name up everyday.
I thought about NS, which is a week from now. I still can't shake this feeling that something's about to happen this month down the road. Some sort of emergency. I tried to reason with myself, saying it's just me scared of being in a new environment. I don't think so. My everyday occupation already tells that I'm not afraid of new environments.
I guess it's been my lifelong dream to die in uniform. Well, not exactly my dream... but literally a dream I had. It was back when I was younger. Not exactly sure when. But for a period of time I had recurring dreams of dying in uniform. And it was always after disembarking from a vehicle, on a beach, facing inland and getting shot in the head. Then again, everyone dreams of a heroic death.
The first night I had the fever, the Projections 08 was scheduled in school. It's basically a screening of all the IBP films from my batch of FSVs.
By then I was a walking doorknob. My entire body was numb and my head hurt like hell. But I had to bring my parents over to see the films. It's at least something small I could do.
So I came in dressed in rags, my cap pulled down to the lowest to cover my face and a face towel in my hands to blow my runny nose. I didn't give a damn about who was there in the screening. I only saw Leanord since he was standing at the door and I gave him a quick wave.
The entire Projections was a bore. It was 3 hours long. I heard from people that our batch had one the best output of films. Well... what a waste. The sound on most of them was crap... and I recall that group of dicks calling themselves sound people walking around school boasting about how they have their own audio studio and all the funny effects.
I saw the film that got the "Best Film Award" and I shook my head in disgust. The picture is nice. Oh it was fantastic. But otherwise.... nothing much to talk about. Some of the other films were really bad. One of them actually looked like it was made by Secondary school AV club members. I can tell exactly which one... but the hint is... it's the one that has a gun. That sucked balls.
When Don and Daryl's film came up, I was relieved. It was the only thing I came there for. I was in their group but I'd never watched our own film before. Blame it on my attitude (I was already travelling everywhere with TSP by then).
Don gave me his word that it was nothing like we ever saw in those useless meetings we had with advisors. Turns out, Don was right. I really liked the film on the first run. It was a bittersweet thing for us I guess. We know how much we shot, how many different versions we could churn out and how many times we had to reshoot scenes. It was a funny thing... our production crew went from seven people (the biggest group!) to four people. The final four was nobody else but Don, Daryl, Rahman and me.
After Projections I quickly walked out of the building, passing by my classmates who were gathering and cheering in the middle of the aisles. I stood outside in the night where it was a bit warm.... but I was shivering to the bones already. The fever got worse by then and I had to leave. I didn't even stay for the reception or met up with Don to greet him.
Back at home, I passed out on my bed.
I don't remember what time of the night was it, but I was woken up by someone shouting. I remember it clearly - "INDONESIAN EARTHQUAKE!" and "STOP SMOKING!"
It went on for quite a while and I started kicking around. The voice still wouldn't go away so I said to myself, "Fuck it" and turned to my side to sleep. I don't know whose voice was it, but it was right beside me, and it kept on shouting until I went to sleep again.
The next morning I told Uncle Jimmy about it and he told me to keep that in mind and that I was blessed. Honestly, this isn't my first time having some anonymous being coming to me in my sleep and telling me stuff. The other one I had was in Ubin.
I was dreaming about the day that just passed and suddenly all the characters in the dream e.g. the cast and crew, started to speak differently. I remember Ah Nam very clearly. He was squatting and he turned to me and in a down-to-earth manner said, "Don't masturbate hor. Don't do at night."
It's hilarious to hear in retrospect but it sounded like a warning at that time since it was one of our first nights and things around were still "new". Another voice said, "Burn josstick okay."
So if anyone asks, that was the reason why I burned a josstick every two nights in ubin. And yes I didn't jack off.
The days before we left Ubin i overheard that every other person had at least one "encounter" during the nights we stayed there whereas mine was peaceful as hell. What was even more amusing was once when Neil, one of the art department, was sleeping on the top floor of the chalet. You climb up the stairs and you're basically climbing into their room.
What happened here was I somehow woke up early, and was the only one awake... everyone else overslept. Normally i'd be the last to wake up. I climbed the stairs and peeked over at the bed just in time to see Neil kick his leg in the air. Now, he is one big-sized mofo and to see him jerk that hard is something. I climbed to the foot of his bed and leaned over to wake him up. But by then he was already half awake and was spooked when he saw me at the foot of his bed.
It was only after we were about to leave Ubin that he told me that night someone poked his ribs again and the time I saw him jerk was the time it happened. It's amusing for me because at that point of time, in that room, looking at him, there was another being with us and right beside Neil, poking him.
It's my last week before NS. Better get my stuff ready.
It's been a week since the end of the Pulau Hantu shoot on the 25th of May. I took a few days rest... though it was difficult to find time for it. I did a lot of miracles on Ubin and that was fun yet tiring. We barely had six hours of sleep for two weeks. But that wasn't so bad compared to the next couple of days we shot back on the mainland.
After the human torch stunt I did, I received a small bit of fanfare especially from the make-up girls. There was one I liked to flirt with and it was a funny thing; she wanted it, I acted like I didn't. One point of time we even "quarrelled" on set because she deemed me very un-gentlemanly for not offering a seat for her. I was never known to be a gentleman... not after the cunts from secondary school. On the last day however we had this moment after the AD claimed production was over. We stood along the corridor of Monk's Hill Secondary. It was night, and near pitch-black. She and I stood there. We knew what was on our minds but I wasn't ready for a relationship nor a night of raunchy sex. I find it kind of cute how it played out. We stared at each other, grins on our faces. We nodded. She sheepishly blurted,"Bye. Thanks."
I gave a smile and went,"You too. Thanks."
I gave her a tight hug that lasted a couple of seconds longer than usual and she giggled when I looked at her again. It sent shivers up my spine because I found the entire situation melodramatic.
But then there's another girl doing wardrobe that I then really thought of. She's older... and I liked that. But nothing really happened since I knew I was too immature to start anything with a girl her age. I've got nothing to show.
Like I said, before I digressed, it was difficult to find time to rest. All I wanted was a full day of sitting in front of my X360 and hammering at GTA IV. But I was committed to Uncle Jimmy. I cleaned the weapons to send back to CISCO. It's not easy when some parts were caked with mud and the gunpowder residue in the chamber started to become pasty.
Work seems to have never stopped for me since I joined The Stunt Production exactly a year ago. Even after Pulau Hantu I was going around for meetings at FEG and event companies and discussing scripts and films with other people. I was basically tagging along with Uncle Jimmy and we've gone to the relationship where we knew who has what task. I found myself to be the secretary and logistics person. Just the past couple of days I was breaking down a script for an upcoming feature film set in World War 2 and doing logistics calculation for stunts. Uncle Jimmy never reads scripts and we have had some problems occur because of that. I felt we needed to cover our asses somehow.
We were over at the Esplanade yesterday to hand over a couple of carbines to a theatre play for the Singapore Arts Festival. I was standing outside the theatre hall, listening to the schedules, when Uncle Jimmy said,"Eh... isn't your graduation tomorrow?"
Turns out, it was. I forgot about my graduation ceremony... how about that?
My parents were overly excited about my graduation day. I understand why... they're parents, after all. They were very meticulous about the condition of the robe... who got what awards... who is who on the prize list and so on. I never understood that part. All the while I'm constantly thinking of the next shoot and what effects are going to be used. Anything related to school left my mind since I worked on Mediacorp earlier this year. To me, school became just another excuse for a piece of paper.
I went back to school today for graduation. I met Don and Kwang Wei first. Then the usual people I always hung out with. These were great people I liked. We clicked and talked. Remember how I mentioned I hated it when people start a conversation with "So, what are you doing now?". Well, it didn't happen with them. The others, though, were a bunch of asses. I remember guys who were... dicks... in school. There's no other way to describe them. These are the colorful bunch of dicks who have absolutely no sense of whatever they are doing but tell people what to do and criticize others. You know that guy who laughs at every mistake other groups make in their films? Giving sarcastic one liners hoping someone will laugh? He's the guy everyone is annoyed with? And for some reason those who hang out with that guy are a bunch of dicks themselves? Yeah.. those guys.
I've been working non-stop since I left school and these guys have probably been at home jacking off the whole time and watching artsy films, memorizing lines in movies and calling themselves a film student. Then here they come to everyone with the most annoying question - what have you been doing? Where are you working now?
The most annoying thing is that they give this little smirk when you tell them what you're doing and then they lash you with sarcastic comments.
In the words of Jimmy Low, I say,"Fuck these bastards."
Daryl came around late and we didn't have the chance to get face-to-face till the moments before we went up to receive our piece of paper. It was like seeing an old friend again. I gave him a hug and that's when I realised I've been pretty much of a bastard myself. I haven't kept in contact with any of my poly mates since January except when it was work related. In a way, I vanished. I find it rude since these were the guys who hammered me on my IBP for my own good and the time we spent on the road in the wee hours in the night was just invaluable. We were like a band on the road armed with just the clothes on our back dreaming of the day to perform on a big stage at a sold-out arena. That, my friends, is something not many Singaporeans our age could understand anymore.
Throughout the ceremony I watched as the prize winners came up to receive whatever extra things they "achieved". Kwang Wei and I were laughing at the many varieties of "Cock Awards" given out. A couple received a Mediacorp award and that was the punchline. I find the entire thing a vanity parade. Here I am sitting with Don, Surya, Desh, Michelle and so on, watching the "high-flyers" getting their awards. It was silly. If anything, those I were sitting with deserved these vanity awards.
I whispered to Don about it and he mentioned,"Audi, these people are the ones who have been getting awards since Year One. Even if they weren't in our course, they will be high-flyers. They're just that kind of breed that are top student material no matter where you put them."
I guess life is just like that. After working everyday on many different shoots and many different people... ultimately, school means nothing. At most, I believe, it's just that extra push you need to get a headstart in the industry. I didn't learn anything that cannot be read about online or in books from my three years in this course. I'm not the only one who thinks that, believe me. We can all agree, though, that spending 3 months on a shoot is worth more than 3 years in a film school. It's all about that damned piece of toilet paper.
During the reception I was back into "work mode" and already anxious since I had to go over to the Esplanade for work. It goes to show how conditioned I am to this mentality. It saddens me in a way.
I didn't hang around much and didn't bother to rub shoulders with lecturers. I only did shake hands with a couple - Chin Boo and Dr.Victor Valbuena.
I hated a lot of lecturers. Many were total bastards. But these two were the ones I remember for being actual teachers.
My parents were somehow neglected by me as well. I didn't bring them around or take much pictures or even had a conversation as a family. In retrospect, I feel really bad. As a son, I didn't share their excitement to see myself graduate. In their eyes, they see it as a big event... regardless of the bullshit that happens behind the scenes and the fact that I couldn't care less about this whole graduation thing. I disappointed them a lot.
It's a pretty bitter thing, my relationship with my parents. I've done some spectacular things at work this past 12 months. I've sent people up into the sky, swung them off buildings, got shot at by countless different rifles, rigged up explosives, handled and fired weapons and been lit on fire four times in a row. After all the hoohaa, the good wishes from friends, the actors and big bosses I've met and praises we get from production companies... my parents have no idea about all this. They're still in the dark on whatever I've been doing.
It's not anything... I just don't know how to show it all to them. We never had this culture of sitting at the dining table and talking. How do I tell them that I've been lifted up three storeys high on wires or been set on fire when they're already so worried whenever I step out of the house? Before I even walk the length of my corridor, my mom would have already told me to pray, don't talk to strangers, don't take drugs, and don't do anything 'funny'. My parents don't even know i've been smoking for the past two years!
I'm going into NS soon. It's on the 13th of June, exactly two weeks from now. I'm being posted to Tekong, School One. I think before that I should tell them everything. I'm not quite sure how. It will be such a dick of me to break their hearts and then vanish for the next month or so. It's not that I don't care for my parents. It's just that I don't know how to do it. It could be ego... or shyness... or whatever. But I have to get this settled before shit hits the fan.
If my prediction for the future means anything, it's not going to be a fun time from this June onwards. I'm actually accepting the possibility that I won't be coming back from NS.
I just got back from Ubin. I don't know what to think about it. It was two weeks of army fatigues, mess tins, smoke, weapons, insects, sweat and clothes soaked in rain and sweat and pretty much no jacking off for the whole time. Sometimes it came to the point where I wanted to sneak into a corner of the forest and let one off right there. To make things worse, we had a shit load of women on the crew. And some were really getting it on towards the last few days of the shoot.
I'm really tired. I'll leave it as that. I'll come back in a few days to blog. I did some pretty silly things on set. I assure you, when graduation comes this 30th, I have some things to show the guys.
It was another week for me. After Poly everything has picked up on my side, career-wise. I can say I'm very happy when i hear news that some of my classmates are indeed getting jobs. Then there are some that can't seem to start working. I don't blame them. If I could I would tell them to enjoy what they have first.
I have been feeling rather upset lately at this whole film industry thing. After Mediacorp, I developed this grudge against a lot of things in this industry in Singapore. I was over for a wrap party for a film I was called in to act at the eleventh hour. It's a film by Zhao Wei called "Invisible Children". I met the crew in Toa Payoh and I was slated to be just another one of those who hangs around in the background. I knew some of the crew there, and some were the first couple of batches from FSV. I had Adeline, my classmate during Poly, working as a Production Assistant and she was the one who called me. Don't you ever get the feeling that this world is too damn small?
I've never been to a wrap party from a production company. Uncle Jimmy never liked the idea of me pursuing an acting career for it's short-lived timeframe. But it's undeniably a good way to gather contacts. The whole night everybody was asking the same question,"So what are you doing now?" You can easily see through that gesture. Most were asking for the sake of conversation. Others were using it as a medium to show off what they're doing now. A minority were hoping for "backdoor entrances". I find the entire thing ridiculous. My mentality that night was to get away from work. I don't want to think of work. But everyone is forcing you to talk about it.
I took and interest with the lead actor for the film. He was good looking and overall very cheerful and open. Boo Jun Feng and friends were also acting for the film. I heard about him first from school lectures on a film he made called "Katong Fuge". I never watched the film but my friends who did came back calling it "Katong Fuck". On the other hand there were my lecturers who would gaggle and foam in the mouths talking about Boo Jun Feng. When I saw him and his friends on set I didn't care about the fact he was a director or whatever. If anything these guys were the funniest bunch of stoned actors. They were overall very nice people as well.
But back to this lead actor. He was preparing for a scene and we got bored and found a guitar nearby. What are the odds? It had its full set of strings and was tuned. He started playing a bit here and there some random chords. I haven't really picked up a guitar yet at that time (It was February this year) so it got my attention. I thought his playing was godly! It was then he started to hum and sing and that shut the whole room up, mostly. My mind raced back to the time I met Shah in school, before the days he was advertised for Anugerah in 2007 or 2006. Shah would sing out of the blue and sometimes we got into little chats about how to sing, music, and the fact that my fashion sense was all over the place back then.
This actor's voice was pleasant to hear. When it came to the wrap party a few weeks later we met up again. He came in with a load of bracelets and necklaces. He was still in NS and I had no idea what to talk about that night. All I could think of that night was the wine and champagne. We finally decided to talk about the food at the party. It was the weirdest conversation ever.
It went something like:
"The curry is nice..." "Yea it is isn't it." "...uh huh..." "I should get some." "Oh yes you should." "Yea maybe later. The desserts look good too." "Oh yes it is." "....."
The conversation finally fell short and we kept silent. We knew no one there except for the crew and the other actors there had their own bunch of friends already. Eric Khoo was there too thought I didn't know it was him. Gary, Royston Tan's famous right hand man, was there as well. Some bad renditions of chinese pop songs were playing over the speakers that time. They basically changed the vocal track to an off-key piano. Lee Hom, Jay Zhou, they were turned into freaking pianos. The worst part was that the tracks looped after about 5 songs. Then this guy started singing again. It was incredibly good to hear. I took out my camera phone and recorded a bit of it. I don't know why.... but after Sly I have this thirst to look for music. I never was interested before. Now I found myself really listening and looking for music. I knew this guy was a part time singer. I asked him how he started out. And that's when I realised that this guy was Leon Lim... one of the S-pop singers... Campus Superstar.. so on and so forth. We talked a bit more and I found him to be very sincere. He had to leave early so we exchanged numbers. When I took out my phone he saw the desktop picture.
"Eh? Isn't that Sylvester?"
Turns out, these two know each other. I've said it once, and I'll say it again. There is no fucking way you can hide in the Singapore Media Industry.
I shook hands with Eric Khoo before I left. That was a particularly disturbing experience. A friend of mine was with me and he wanted to leave. I had to shake Eric's hands. I don't know his movies, I've watched some but never liked any, but my school's a big fan of his. I saw him get out of his chair and walked into the lobby. I followed him. Then I realised he was going for a piss. It got me thinking... here I am... gonna meet Eric Khoo... I'm gonna shake his hand... and he just took a piss.
He came out after a while, I called him, he received us warmly, and I shook his hands. I could just see it in his face. Two teenage guys just waited for him outside the toilet to shake his hand after taking a piss, wtf?
After this show I received a call from Putnam of Tisch Asia. I was going to act as the lead role in his film. Again, it's not a paid job. I've spent this whole week travelling to Kembangan to rehearse at his place. It's hard work and the smoking habit isn't helping at all.
I sat down one night with Jason at the usual 925 kopitiam. I was telling him how shitty a lot of things are in our work. I boldly told him that if any of our friends from secondary school were to join this industry they'll die. This arrogance prompted him to ask me, "Then why are you still doing this?"
I never asked myself this question. I thought about it for a while. I looked back to the school days. All the production I've went through and the war stories we've shared in Poly. The late nights. The smoking. The times we went insane. We've seen a lot. Daryl, Don, Rahman, Kwang Wei, Kang Sheng, etc etc. I find it quite an insane journey. We're not even making money. Some of us aren't ready for adult life. Not everyone of us were on the same page at all. We've walked this road and we've seen those who surprise us and we've seen a couple collapse in exhaustion. After graduation here are some flying high. Some are still with their luggage tucked under their arms, waiting for a ride, not knowing where to go. We're like a half-arsed, half-fucked band of frat boys with big dreams but not knowing what exactly are those dreams.
Then I remembered why I still did this. I looked at him, then up above, thinking. I said,"Have you ever been on stage to perform? Have you ever felt this rush... this rush so great that you start to shiver, your legs become weak, and you're about to faint. But the irony is that everyone likes you and you're doing a great job. This is exactly what you get in this line. Even as a crew or as an actor. One moment you're just sitting at home, smoking, drinking. Nothing is in your mind. You think of nothing. You think of ending it all. The next moment here you are in the middle of the night. Everyone is running around, some are shouting. You suddenly have a brotherhood going along and you have a common goal. You squeeze and twist yourself. You exert yourself both physically and mentally to get things done with the minimal you have. And when it's all said and done, you're sitting here in this coffeeshop, exhausted as hell, you haven't bathed in a week, all you want to do is jack off and sleep. You look at the film the next few weeks and everybody is impressed. You look back and recall. You ask yourself,"Did I really do that?". I dont' think this is something accountancy can give you. Or engineering. Or aeronautics. We're just a bunch of grunts working for another person's idea. The fucking thrill is what keeps me here."
Initially I wanted to talk about something else but it turned to this angle of story. It's okay. I think it's good on itself. See you next post.
