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It was Supermassive [Jan. 24th, 2010|03:30 pm]
 All over again, like 1.0 on a smaller scale, but SO MUCH BETTER this time around. The bands stepped up to show how much they've improved, so much band chemistry in home club last night.

The party really started when Monogramme took the stage, killing everyone with their super chill music, and then us Parts To A Circle gave our all and rocked our heads off, before Class Act closed the gig and brought the house down.

There is no experience like standing before a crowd and having them chant and sing along to whatever you're playing. Honest.

Still living on last night's high.

Thanks for coming folks, we'll see you at the next one!

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It was a very good year [Dec. 31st, 2009|12:11 am]
Walt Whitman, "Continuities"

Nothing is ever really lost, or can be lost,
No birth, identity, form--no object of the world.
Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing;
Appearance must not foil, nor shifted sphere confuse thy brain.
Ample are time and space--ample the fields of Nature.
The body, sluggish, aged, cold--the embers left from earlier fires,
The light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again;
The sun now low in the west rises for mornings and for noons continual;
To frozen clods ever the spring's invisible law returns,
With grass and flowers and summer fruits and corn.

I like that alot, just like how 2009 has been so generous to me. I remember writing quite the moving speech the last time i did this, had lots of thoughts in my head then, because there were alot of things just ahead of me back in last December. Things like results, resolutions, and of course, dear old army. Usually I love to write in ambiguous and sometimes sinister Chuck Palahniuk ways, but I'm just gonna keep this one  nakedly honest.

Army's changed my life, alot, it's taught me more than I thought I'd have learnt, in more ways than one. I write worse now, for one, haha. Been out of touch for so long. No matter! Walt says nothing is every really lost anyway.

Anyhow, there's that thing from the ages most people have a habit of making at this time of the year, so I got myself a mental to-do list for the long year ahead.

I'll keep all my resolutions from last year, because they've served me brilliantly, very awesome. I will persevere and see out my months left in service, cannot wait! I need to get more organised, planning wise, because my head is a perpetual blender where everything's a blur and things are rarely properly set down. And, of course, the most important thing of all, is that I'm gonna put all my heart into making things that matter so much to me bloom like a field of one thousand sunflowers. Look long enough and they'll smile at you haha.

Have a totally boomz year ahead friends!

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TEETH [Nov. 3rd, 2009|09:29 pm]

Pull up your lip corners, left to right, right to left, and back again.

Make damned sure it's symmetrical, like someone drew a graph on your face, with a compass.

And as long as they're watching, keep smiling.

They say that at work, all you have to do is give them what they want, and they'll be happy. When they're happy, there's no flaring tempers, no poisonous threats, no furious glaring, everyone's happy. Happiness makes the world go round.

As long as they're looking, keep smiling.

They say we probably won't be going home this weekend. Or the next. They say it's not so bad, because it used to be much worse, and we'll be getting Wednesday off as a break anyway. They say we're already getting more than we deserve.


They is the new God. The inter-galactic religion of the 21st Century. The Church of They. The They Prayers. Haven't you heard?

Tyler says we're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world. I used to violently disagree. I'm smarter now. Spend enough time working for them, and you see it all for yourself. A glorious mega-assembly founded strictly on the archetypes of everything good. Spend enough time working for them, and the smoke grenade of ideals clears before you. The golden carapace peels away to reveal nothing. Nothing of the good that they generously boast of, nothing of the slogans they proudly trumpet.

As long as they're  forking out for a bed that let's you sleep in relative comfort and three meals a day, keep smiling.

But there is hope yet. Look at Winston. He's joined the many lucky few who've moved on out of here. If there is hope, said Winston, it lies in the proles. Never really got that, and we're still trying to, but what you don't understand, you can make mean anything. That, that right there, was Chuck.

What they're doing to you here is, they train you to defend the greater good, they prepare you for the worst, they free your inner patriot. What actually happens is mental torture. My brain is so fried from non-usage that it's bio-degrading, cell after cell after cell. I no longer think as well as I used to. I can't say what I actually mean. My mouth is faster than my mind. My head is one big bowl of word salad.

But all you have to do is keep at it. Slowly but surely, there's a point along the way where the winding road stops winding, where the little gate that's always been in the distance will appear before you, just four, five steps away. Then you'll escape, like the others, and you'll run like the devil is on your back, not stopping until you can't see this place when you turn around.

As long as they're paying you, keep smiling.

As long as they're keeping tab on you, keep that big fat plastic expression plastered all over your unbitter face, and show them that there's nothing to be unhappy about.
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Nostalgimanic [Sep. 20th, 2009|11:17 pm]
You run. You hide. Or at least, you try to. But it doesn't matter. It seeks you out anyway, like a stubborn missile homed in perfectly on course for its invisible target.


You run. You hide. Or at least, you try to.



Bam. Bam. Bam.

You close your eyes.

Hope like hell it goes away, and it just might.

The way it hits you, you wish you never existed. Putrid, horribly similar to yesterday, and yesterweek, and yesteryear.

Torture? Maybe, but funnily enough, you cringe and go for it again.

You know you're a little off the top with a dash of delirium and a hint of vertigo when you start adding Whiskey to your instant noodles.

Ah good lord, had such a crazy Saturday with the boys. Prawning was good fun, you guys should give it a try if you've got the time and money, pretty pricey. The Bishan one is decent. And then the sun went home and we went bunk over the bottles, lovely lovely bottles. Haven't had such valuable times with them since who-knows-when. The whole weekend thingamajig was good too, because I'm a lucky boy with lucky company.

One more day til I return to my other life, where the weather is always black, white, with lots of pent up frustration and a tinge of the intention to scream one's lungs out.

Too much Chuck Palahniuk.

Til next time, my good people.
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Let every day be Sunday [Sep. 13th, 2009|06:19 pm]
"Absolutely marvelous. Am I late?"

I told her no, but she was around ten minutes late, as a matter of fact. I didn't give a damn, though. All that crap they have in cartoons in the Saturday Evening Post and all, showing guys on street corners looking sore as hell because their dates are late--that's bunk. If a girl looks swell when she meets you, who gives a damn if she's late?


'The Catcher in the Rye', J.D. Salinger

Good morning snooze, grocery trip, whipping up pasta in the kitchen with The Beatles.

Not every day is Sunday, but boy, I sure wish it was so.
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All it takes, is a little faith, and alot of heart [Jul. 18th, 2009|08:56 am]
Weekends seem way too short, they really just flash past, too fast for my own good.

Got about one and a half years to go with this routine, gonna stick it through, with a little help from my friends on the weekends. It's such a whirlwind of two-day periods that I never know what to properly write here when I actually do haha.

Coughing fits are back, they arrest me with lung spasms. I'm so rusty at writing now that I am limited to short, short sentences like these, I fear for me brain. Man it really is suspended like a stagnant pea in mid-air. See, I type nonsense! Maybe it's just the morning brain.

Caught your morning brain sickness haha.
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And so it is [Jun. 21st, 2009|11:07 pm]
Just like I thought it would be, I'm heading to SISPEC tomorrow morning for phase 2 of my service, from one end of the island to the other.

Gonna go grab a good rest, gotta wake up way too early in the morning. Block leave was rather perfect, had a great ten days.

Will miss you! Guys! Til the next post.
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And she wears it for the private who wears the jockey cap [Jun. 11th, 2009|10:28 am]
Boy, I haven't been here in awhile.

Left Tekong yesterday after marching around the whole island, with blisters, abrasions, and very sore soles. Hopefully I won't see it again. They say BMT is the most enjoyable part of NS though, and I guess the only thing I'll miss is the platoon mates, and all the shit and good times we went through together. Felt good walking onto the ferry knowing I wouldn't be going back after two days, maybe never, maybe not in awhile.

It probably made me more tolerant. A greater threshold for discomfort, for crazy tough trainings, for less pleasant people. Adds to my ability to keep on the bright side, because my new year resolution has been serving me brilliantly so far. But only because I've been adhering to it strictly of course!

In about nine days I'll find out where I'm gonna go, I'll take whatever I get, can't change anything now. Just gonna enjoy being a plain old civilian for now.

Thanks for coming to POP, you.
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Relax [May. 8th, 2009|11:12 pm]
Pat Metheny, Love Theme, from Cinema Paradiso. Music is good. Haven't enjoyed it in awhile. Back for the weekend!

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And from my lips she drew the Hallelujah [May. 3rd, 2009|05:13 pm]
In 2 hours, I leave behind my good life (again) to resume my serving, where I get whisked away to the island.

It's been a great four days, kind of like salvation, keeps me sane with the reassurance that my old life still exists and is very much intact. Being a civilian is a joy, I go where I want, do what I want, when I want to. Enough pining though, I need to get used to the routine, it's going to be two years, and it's only been two weeks.

Gotta be at the point where I go in and I tell myself, ah same old same old, nothing I can't take. But that point isn't exactly in sight yet, although I must and shall reach there soon.

See you guys when I see you guys.
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