He started off with a holiday greeting before continuing, “last night, more than a billion people gathered in the Chinese Times Square watching Chinese Ryan Seacrest banter awkwardly with Chinese will.i.am.” With a footage of the Chinese President, the close caption and Chinese-accented narration of the video said the Chinese resolution is to “get organized” and “play the harmonica.”

I love this guy.

As I rummage through my stuffs, I realized I have come so far today.

Amongst a mass of picture and photographs which I do not have a decent album to store, I came across this from some 14 – 15 years ago. This was a picture taken during a National Education Trip when I was in Primary 4. I vividly recall this place in Jalan Sultan where my friends and I had a rest and lunch. Although they were my closer friends in primary school, I couldn’t really recall their names.

I probably will try to locate them on Facebook, if at all possible because I don’t remember their names.

Why The Face was the all-time favorite one-liner for Modern Family fans like me but I always thought it sounded awkward. I mean, how do you use Why The Face in normal conversation to exclaim your rogue surprise yet being satirical?

I think I know today.

I conducted lessons for the Specialist Cadets this morning and because there is less work to do today, I decided to do my routine of walking around and trying to get to know them better. I went ahead to confirm if they were mostly diploma holders.

“So, you guys are from poly right?”

“Yes, sergeant.” A couple of them responded and one added on, “So, sergeant, you are from poly too?”

“Yes. I am from NYP.”

“So you studied business…” He carried on quizzing me.

“Yes. Business Informatics. Wait. How do you know?” I am puzzled, wondering if he is another course mate whom I don’t recall.

“Oh. You have the business face.”

There was a moment of silence before I blurted, “I have what the… face?”

The entire table laughed but I just kept quiet because that was suppose to come out “WHAT THE FUCK?” I realized at the eleventh hour that it may sound too rude for such a general observation about me. More over, I thought it is too rogue for a guy with a ‘business face’. I made it in time to say the word ‘Face’ and thank God it kind of suited the entire conversation, anyway.

The Mayans thinks it may be apocalyptic, but I have learned not to worry about everything under the sun. It is a waste of time worrying unless there is an imminent danger or when I finally reached a crossroad where I have to make a decision. When you have reached your the life of yours, no amount of worries and prayers can save you of death from the simplest way. If you are meant to live, you will survive the greatest tragedy in history.

For the entire year, my tagline for this blog was, “Trading memories I held, for stories yet untold.” My backpacking trip to New Zealand made a huge difference in me. I spent a great amount of time thinking about the people around me, who I have become today, and who I will be tomorrow. The world is huge out there yet I know there is only one place I can call home, and only one place where my kin and kith, memories and feelings so dearly belongs. I can’t trade those away.

This year forward, I hope with the life of mine that I could be more contented. I want to be contented with what I owned and achieved through my own merit. I want to see greater maturity and a wiser personality in myself. I want to learn to love just about everything and everyone around me. I hope from trust and determination will I take leaps of faith from even greater heights.

“Mai i te aroha, ko te aroha.” is a sentence in Maori language that translates to, “From love, comes love.”

TRADING MEMORIES I HELD, FOR STORIES YET UNTOLD. I realize in 2010 that if we kept too ourselves tied to the past, we can’t carry on and move forward. I needed to find a place where I can trade these memories, knowing they are safe, and move on with life. This blog is the place. I could use a new tagline for 2011, though.

THE WISH BALL. Like an iceberg, there was more than just the surface of that wish ball. One of the wish ball that float in Marina Bay had my hand writing that says how much I wanted to be done with my National Service obligations. Of course, the ball was too small for me to write my entire heart out. I wished and prayed that people around me would always be there.

LEVEL 2 SOLDIER. When 2010 concluded and 2011 drew a start, there was a glimmer of hope and promise of a good life when I am selected to attend Signal Specialist Cadet Course at Stagmont Camp for my Third Sergeant rank. I remembered vividly the déjà vu when I first saw HQ Signal Institute. Accommodation and facilities here were substandard as compared to BMT and SISPEC.

I HAD FOUGHT ALL BUT ONE. Coming so far in Army, I realized my mind and body have had done things which I never thought I could. I have been through grueling tasks in the midst of a thunderstorm. I have ran 5 kilometers in less than half hour. I fought every sleepy moment, fatigue body, and exhausted mind. But I had not fought for a song that is straight through my heart; one that is not easy to sing about. The song ended but I just sit still and listen to long static silence that played afterward.

ARMY SERGEANT. I completed my professional term to achieve my Third Sergeant rank. I received the Silver Bayonet for being one of the three Honor Graduates of my platoon. The graduation parade on the Leaders’ Square was something I had never thought but worked hard towards. As much as the three chevrons was heavy on my chest, I felt a large piece of puzzle missing. It was mission because I had fought all but one.

GLIMPSE OF THE TEACHING PROFESSION. I was asked to be an Instructor in Signal Institute to facilitate and teach information systems to diverse group of people. Being in classroom environment, I experience first-had the responsibility, role and satisfaction of becoming a teacher and facilitator. Having students understand you is a challenge. Having students see you as a friend and recognize you as an instructor is an achievement more than being nominated for Excellent Instructor Award.

A WORLD ABOVE AND BEYOND. For almost the entire month of August, I was on a military exercise in Taiwan. The experience was tremendous and the world beyond Singapore is magnificent and majestic. I made acquaintances and task to work as a team was a whole new level I have conquered and learned from. This was the first time I have ever yearned to be home with friends and family, although for the longest time I have learned to be independent.

MY CLASSMATE, COLLEAGUE, AND COMRADE. At least until June 2012, we have come a long way to a point we are, well, comrade, in Army. Taking what life throws at us, and after squeezing so much lemons to make lemonade, Adeline signed-on with the Military Police Command. I was at the Parade as the Army presented her to the audience as the Distinguished Honor Graduate of her cohort. I realized life had changed us so much that after all that I’ve known, I wasn’t I anymore, and when she weren’t her anymore. Nonetheless, I am as proud of her as her mom was.

SUCH IS MY DREAM. Mid-November, I embarked on an adventure to New Zealand and there is absolutely no way of writing how I felt. I love the culture and friendliness of people there. Through the 8-day adventure, I marveled at the work of human engineering and the beautiful course of nature. I have felt no stress and burden. I was living my dream as a child. I wanted to fly many times on an airplane, I wanted to ride a train, I wanted to do something adventurous, I wanted to be peaceful, I wanted to meet beautiful people and I wanted luxury. I did it all.

A LITTLE EVANGELICAL. I love how people reaction the look on their faces when I recall how “I got lost in an island and I met God.” Depending on your faith, it may sound like evangelism. Or if you are an atheist, it sounds like a scene straight out of a movie. Nonetheless, I wrote a full account with pictures and a map. I am so thankful I something went off in my head that ‘I should approach this old man’ and get directions from him when I am at a critical junction while trekking.

LAST OF ESCAPE THEME PARK. I couldn’t make of this moment. Hundreds of former operational crews flocked back to the park for its last moment in history. A trip back was another walk down the big memory lane all of us have missed and loved. I have not met greater people and worked with bigger experience. The family, camaraderie and esprit de corps tell me it is not the organization that matters, it is the people. It is not the hate of work that matters, it is the love of friends.

A PART OF LARGE ANAMNESIS. I spent the last three days of this amazing year with the guys from my Army unit in Malaysia. Although on the verge of puking every time we shuttle between the Capital and Genting Highlands in Pahang, we have had a pretty good time and some laughter as a whole. On a personal level, this trip was part of a larger anamnesis.

These memories are always mine to treasure.

If it wasn’t for the stunning vista of the Auckland War Memorial Museum and its glorious architecture on the Auckland Domain, I probably wouldn’t have known what is going on. It was by a chance of luck did I manage to reach the museum in time for a Māori Cultural Performance.

Wikipedia says Māori are indigenous people of New Zealand (known as Aotearoa, meaning The Long White Cloud in Māori language). Māori developed a unique culture with their own language, a rich mythology, distinctive crafts and performing arts, but alas, the Europeans influenced and changed them after 17th Century.

The performance was entertaining and I have learned so much more about Māori cultures. I have recorded a section of the performance where a ladies danced with Poi Balls to tell stories and Poi Balls are used to help young warriors with reflexes. Immediately after, our host introduced us to Haka, a traditional ancestral war cry of the people of Māori.

Anyway, the music that you hear is sung by people backstage and a guy strumming a guitar. It wasn’t no music playing on loud speakers. It was smoothing and pleasing to the ears.

Of course, there were other dances and demonstration on how the people of Māori used primitive weapons to protect and defend themselves. Honestly, even though they were just performers, I would have shit in my pants if they were really going to attack me. In fact, even if I had a SAR 21 assault rifle with me, I would’ve felt utterly inferior.

The Haka dance and war cry videos can be found on YouTube. I also thought it is especially interesting that during Rugby World Cup 2011, All Blacks performed the Haka war dance live on TV, garnering thunderous cheers and encouragements.

OH. JUST FOR THE RECORD. The Singapore Armed Forces and the Army really need to scrap that sickening and lousy shitty roar they always make Enlistees do. It is a joke. Dude, people laugh and mock at it!

Well, I know this is totally out of my normal Alternative Rock genre. And yes, it is Chinese. I do listen to Chinese pop occasionally and I happen to stumble upon this. I do understand most of the lyrics, if not entirely. Worth a share.

又回到最初的起點
記憶中妳青澀的臉
我們終於來到了這一天
桌墊下的老照片
無數回憶連結
今天男孩要赴女孩最後的約

又回到最初的起點
呆呆地站在鏡子前
笨拙繫上紅色領帶的結
將頭髮梳成大人模樣
穿上一身帥氣西裝
等會兒見妳一定比想像美

好想再回到那些年的時光
回到教室座位前後　故意討妳溫柔的罵
黑板上排列組合　妳捨得解開嗎
誰與誰坐他又愛著她

那些年錯過的大雨
那些年錯過的愛情
好想擁抱妳　擁抱錯過的勇氣
曾經想征服全世界
到最後回首才發現
這世界滴滴點點全部都是妳

那些年錯過的大雨
那些年錯過的愛情
好想告訴妳　告訴妳我沒有忘記
那天晚上滿天星星
平行時空下的約定
再一次相遇我會緊緊抱著妳
緊緊抱著妳

And Sri whom is well known for being notoriously late, told me she was going to “mandi” in Malay. Not knowing what that was, she kindly explained to me she has to masturbate. But of course, she explained it actually means to take a shower, but only after I am totally mortified.

On the fifth day, I caught a ferry to Waiheke Island which one of the crew in Auckland Bungy Jump recommended. Although I have read so much about it, I decided the best policy is to buy an hour-long tour of the island before exploring it without a hint. The island was beautiful and it was a dream destination they always showed on TV. The bus driver left the ferry terminal and began its tour from Oneroa Bay to Mawhitipana Bay and told us how sometimes there are Orcas and dolphins which would come and play with islanders at Palm Beach.

Although I know the chances of spotting an Orcas or dolphin is slim and not probable, I told myself I should visit the beach and feel the beauty and peace of living on an island like this.

The buses on the island comes at an hour interval to coincide with the ferries departure and arrival timing. As I waited for a delayed service at a bus stop on Oneroa with a few locals, I studied the map and I was pretty sure it said Palm Beach is two stops away from Oneroa Bay if I took Route 2. My patience paid off. I flashed my travel pass at the driver and occupied a seat in a nearly-filled bus from its backlog of commuters.

When the bus pulled at one of the stop to alight several passengers, I saw a “Palm Beach” with an arrow to the right engraved on the bus stop. I was here. I alighted with a couple of passengers. It wasn’t until the surrounding looks deserted that I realized I might have got to the wrong bus stop.

I checked the map.

And indeed, I was right and wrong. I was right about alighting at a wrong stop. I began my travel on Route 2 (in orange) from Ocean View Road, and had alighted at Goodwin Avenue instead of Miro Road. Upon realization, I looked up and around at a deserted area and sigh, “fuck my life.” Immediately, my next thought was about how the next bus is an hour away. I heaved a last sigh and took my first step of a long journey on foot.

To my surprise, I was less frustrated than thought I would be. It may be because the weather is at it’s best or the fact that my survivor instinct kicked in and I was extremely focused of my surrounding. When I reached Hauraki Avenue, I met a junction which stopped me in my track. I turn and oriented the map to my area once. Twice. Thrice.

I have had two choices:
1) I could use Cory Road which seem like a shorter way to Miro Road, or
2) I could just follow the longer route of the bus.

I weighed my options and decided on the latter. I justified to myself; after all, it is a bus route that begin hourly and it must be safer and easier than Cory Road. A shorter path may be treacherous and unreliable, right? Yes. I am going to walk to Karaka Road, Junction Road, Hill Road, Palm Road and finally at Palm Beach. Looks far but I knew for sure I have walked farther than this in Army. This should be easier. I decided.

I continued my journey on foot and it wasn’t far that I noticed an elderly man was walking towards my direction from the left. He tracked slowly and looked like he could use a rest for every distance he walked. For some unexplained reason, something went off in my head: Go approach this old man. Go approach this old man. He is going to help you.

Just. approach. him.

When I finally got to him, he was already sitting aimlessly on a bench along the road. “Hello, do you think I could ask for directions around here?” I look him in his wrinkled face and faded eyes and asked gently.

Over the next few minutes he struggled to identify our location on my map. In fact, he said we were on Karaka Road instead of Hauraki Road. He eventually told me that I should be using the Cory Road instead. “Cory Road. Walk along this road and you will see a very nice lookout of the beach,” He stuttered to form a sentence.

I thanked him as he walked in the direction I came from, seemingly already satisfied with his one minute rest on the bench before I interrupted him.

Despite that he incorrectly positioned us, sounded unsure and was not definite in the way he mentioned Cory Road, I realized I somehow could trust this man. It was easy to convince myself to change my decision I made. I changed my mind and I am going to walk along Cory Road (a road that is partially blinded by labels on the map).

On Cory Road, I met another local, a gentle young lady on a walk with her child in a pram. She confirmed I could reach Palm Beach and there would be a lookout – a platform kind – that overlooks the beach. Her words were an assurance and I was relieved. I took her direction and I didn’t think again about what the elderly man had said.

It was definitely not less than three kilometers when I finally reached Palm Beach. I saw beautiful houses, felt the sand in my hand, walked towards the small waves splashing and foaming on the coast and watched a family play catch with their dog while it simultaneously tried to chase after seagulls. Now, this really is a scene straight out of a movie.

I took more than a few shots with camera because it simply such a beautiful and peaceful place. It was like no other beach I have been before. It felt different. I began to envision a life here. Satisfied with the amount of pictures I have taken, I went to a convenience store maintained by a Chinese family moved here two years ago. As I waited for the next bus back to the Matiatia Ferry Terminal, I chatted in English with a Chinese guy of my age.

He spoke about how friendly the people here and the culture never like a city. “It is very peaceful. Nothing ever happens here,” he said. Although he said life is peaceful, it is slow and may be boring for people of his age. Apart from going to work in the city, residents in this island tends to gardens, pets, do some swimming and spent time most of their time with their family.

He closed his shop and left before my bus arrived. It was my journey back to Matiatia Ferry Terminal that a realization caught my breath. The route which I had initially decided to walk was difficult. The bus turned in and out of an overgrown area, up and down a hill, left and right. It was bleak. I knew I might have been lost if I had taken this path. I might have taken forever to orientate again.

Then it dawned on me and I recalled that elderly man who gave me directions earlier. He was a total stranger but something in my head asked me to approach and heed from. It felt surreal suddenly.

Thank God for him that I took Cory Road.

December has always been known as a holiday season and I thought I could share some of my dreams. I always have two bucket lists in my head which I call them: The Bucket List, and The Bucket List On Steroid. I manage to struck off some points while in New Zealand from The Bucket List, but I thought I could share some of the points from The Bucket List On Steroid I have once posted on Twitter. Hold your breaths.

#Dreams Sail and anchor a yacht on clear water. Marvel at the majesty of the oceans and consume the deafening silence.

—
J J LIM (@poopler) December 08, 2011

#Dreams Be a citizen of the world.

—
J J LIM (@poopler) November 27, 2011

#Dreams Ride on a Harley Davidson on a red jacket down a suburban town.

—
J J LIM (@poopler) November 15, 2011

#Dreams Buy a ticket over-the-counter at Spaceport America, marvel at the extreme engineering of mankind and the conspicuous Mother Nature.

—
J J LIM (@poopler) November 08, 2011

#Dreams Wake up to American Breakfast in silk pajamas on a bed draped by a 1200 tread-count Egyptian cotton linen.

—
J J LIM (@poopler) November 08, 2011

#Dreams Say hello and have lunch in person with @SofiaVergara.

—
J J LIM (@poopler) November 07, 2011

#Dreams Suit up and attend a Black Tie event with the most gorgeous date.

—
J J LIM (@poopler) November 07, 2011

#Dreams Go to Italy, savor a bowl of minestrone soup in an alfresco cafe and watch the world through my camera.

—
J J LIM (@poopler) November 07, 2011

#Dreams All work and jobs in this world should be as enjoyable and fun as with those people back in Escape Theme Park.

—
J J LIM (@poopler) November 08, 2011

#Dreams Attend a State Banquet hosted by the Queen of United Kingdom and The Commonwealth

—
J J LIM (@poopler) November 07, 2011

I think big.

Next March, my mother spoke of her intention to bring my younger brother out of this country for a vacation. I probably would write the itinerary. It is actually pretty tedious and I have to find a suitable destination. My plan will change because this itinerary is not only for me but my family. I have up to the weather and safety to factor into my considerations.

There’s no hiding room
When every wound
Brings the darkest place to light
So why not assume
That straight out of the womb
I’ve been marked by a beast of some kind
(Marked by a beast of some kind)
And there are so many reasons why you’re not

Crazy for leaving
Just crazy for staying so long
I’m amazed you’re still breathing
Amazed you can feel at all
For all the pain I caused
I’m the one crazy after all
The one crazy after all

There’s no need for signs
When your crying eyes said a million words tonight
And I’d rather die than see you do time
For the wrongs that you can’t make right

You’re not crazy for leaving
Just crazy for staying so long
I’m amazed you’re still breathing
Amazed you can feel at all
For all the pain I caused
I’m the one crazy after all

I’m so far gone, found my way back to broken somehow
Yeah when you moved on, then I can’t find my way out

You’re not crazy for leaving
Just crazy for staying so long
I’m amazed you’re still breathing
Amazed you can feel at all
For all the pain I caused
I’m the one crazy after all
(The one crazy after all)
I’m the one crazy after all
The one crazy after all
I’m crazy

There was something about the closure of the Park that sent hundreds of former crews flocking back after so many years. Deep inside, we know how much this place meant and how much priceless memories that are untold of. Following what Aisha would say, these people are the reasons why some of us held our position and work for so long.

This photo is part of the crew from the older generation some 2-5 years ago. There is nothing like these people anywhere else. It is hard to stay current with everyone when we have our personal commitments, but we know what happened and it will always stay that loving way. People like these reminds me how to laugh with no worries, how to be happy for no reasons.

A part of me felt nostalgic and sad that a place with such wonderful experiences and memories will be gone, yet a part of me felt at home with the people I’ve come to meet once again. I do not know what to make of the Last Ride at the Pirate Ship that all former and current staffs rode on. It almost seem like the moment have dissipated my fear of the ride.

Really. It is not the organization that matters, it is the people. It is not the hate of work that matters, it is the love of friends.

Because Cher Haur was away on leave, I had to stand-in and become the Course Sergeant for the IS Platoon for two days. I have forgotten the hassle of running a platoon because of all the administrative work. That aside, tryna get some 44 men to cooperate with you and keeping them out of trouble is hard work. Tedious. Back breaking. Breathless.

Men are born to break rules. Sometimes when life gives them lemons, and they make Milo, it is probably too late when they realized they fucked up.

On Wednesday, I participated in Combat Shoot with Swee Guan, Joxef, Jonathan and two other guys from another formation. It was definitely an enjoyable and fun day out in the range. The good news is, I achieved my Marksman once again! That would means an additional $200 reward and I am looking forward to spending some of it over in New Zealand (GASPS!).

You know on those days you are just so tired your mind tricked you into thinking there is a lot more time before you are scheduled to go for a meeting. I woke early but decided to laze on the bed until I had to ask Jonathan what time it was when the clock read 25 minutes past 7. OHMYWORLD, IT IS 7:25AM and I have got a evaluation of my conduct at 8am.

I panicked for a little before I zipped to the office, then to the lab and set up the classroom. When it was time, the IS platoon came in and was all, “Sergeant, nervous or not?” I was dumbfounded because I have not mentioned to them the exact reason our Commanding Officer is coming to our lesson. The next guy was all, “Sergeant, we will help you get your Excellent Instructor Award!” Then another, “Don’t worry, we won’t ask too many questions!”

I flushed.

My conduct of the lesson was pretty disappointing to me because I have to project my voice and try to fight when the jet-engine noise of the servers’ ventilation. And because there were just so many trainees, it was difficult to command and control everybody. I know I could’ve been better.

Nonetheless, I hope to receive good news when they gather together and decide who would win and walk away with a $200 book voucher. (I know right. I think you just heard me roll my eyes.)

Anyway, I am due for a New Zealand adventure next week andi am really excited and nervous about this trip. I am pushingthe panic buttom right about how because i have not pack my stuffs in order to survive there. With this to worry, it seems that my presentation to my Officer Commanding is the least of my worries.

i want to get the Excellent Instructor Award and I want to enjoy my vacation.

OH. MY. WORLD.

While browsing US and UK news on Saturday, I suddenly had the thought of browsing New Zealand news. That’s when learn first-hand, before it exploded on the Internet, that Alan Joyce announced with his Australian accent that planes have stopped flying immediately and indefinitely. My heart stopped a bit. Then I was all puzzled because who would ground the entire national carrier, right?!

I called up Qantas flight center before dusk and I waited on their answering machine for close to 45 minutes before someone picked up the phone and was all, “no. no.” in her Australian accent when I asked if she knew when Qantas is going to get all their shit together.

I am monitoring the news in this period of emergency; anxious for the resumption of flights. I am, however, not alarmed yet because I am sure the Australian government will put the planes up before mid-November. This is a huge crisis for the country, if you think about it, so I’m sure it is only for a couple of days. Of course, if all else fails, I am flying Singapore Airlines and have Qantas reimburse me.

“How old are you now?” She asked.

“I am 22 this year.”

I bet you’d watched comical strips on television when the character turns monochrome and the entire scene goes slow motion. Then the scene ends with an explosion from 100 kilograms of TNT. I felt exactly like that following my answer. I am no longer that annoying class manager. I’m not 17 years old. My teacher is retired. BAM! I am a soldier and Faizah is a policewoman.

I was in a futuristic dream straight out from a 4 year-old.

We spent most of the time over dinner at Swensen telling her how many kids our former classmates already had. Who exactly is working and what most of us are presently doing. The session shed ashen light on how 42 people in a class are so presently diverse, we are only connected to each other by our Alma Mater.

Accountants.
Soldiers.
Airmen.
Policewoman.
Undergraduates.
Firefighter.
Technicians.
Artists.
Housewives.
Dads.
Moms.

Who, exactly, are we?

Just sometime ago, we had to bring home consent forms, worry about test results, copy for an assignment due for the afternoon, cheat for a class test we studied but never understood, and being horribly mischievous during recess breaks. We didn’t had any issues concerning our lives to worry about, we didn’t have think about names for our kids, we didn’t have to uphold the law and protect the sovereign.

Our conversation didn’t finish as did our dinner. We carried on talking over lattes at Starbucks. Now this is when I feel the full pang of growing up. Last I remembered, I should be with friends chatting about the darnest mischief over a bottle of liquor and mixer. NOT exactly a conversation of past and future over Starbucks. And as if the chill of a Frappucino would upset an aging stomach, I settled for a tall latte.

At Starbucks, we stopped talking about friends and family, life and death, kids and problems, but we veered towards the topic of how we used to behave in the dark beyond our teachers’ watchful eyes. We shared our test, proven and reliable tricks of cheating during tests. We even rat on some kind teachers who stashed away our much-illegal mobile phones when there comes a time for spot checks.

Oh remember that time when we mixed chemicals so badly the Civil Defense have had to come? And those police! They were after the cigarettes we smoked and punches we threw at teachers. Oh wait, right, we raised the State Flag upside down during morning assembly. Yea, we always talked about the gangsters in 369 Society. The Teachers’ Room would flood and destroy our books.

As we talked into the dead of the night, we agreed those times as a pupil in school is perhaps the best time we had. Time passes fast and memories are fading, but I take consolation in how we could meet up once in a long time. Its good to know people are doing something in their lives, and that everybody are safe and sound.

I realize when I grow older, I think about the best day as a kid. I think of those days, those that I am happy and loved. That is one hell of a gift.

If I wasn’t as much in shame and embarrassment of even sharing the same ethnic race as these cruel and incorrigible people, I would definitely like to join the debate and question of the “state of morality in Chinese society” and how “morally bankrupt” people are.

For those passer-by who claimed that they didn’t not see her yelp in pain, I just want to say that if I was in their shoe, I would probably hated myself for NOT seeing her. For the two drivers who blatantly murdered (and I emphasize on that word) her, I hope you will find no peace in life for taking away an innocent life. How is it not murder when you run over a child, refuse to help, yet ease your hind vehicle tires over that fragile body?

(I’m an angel with a shotgun, shotgun, shotgun,
An angel with a shotgun, shotgun, shotgun..)

Get out your guns, battles begun,
are you a saint, or a sinner?
If loves a fight, than I shall die,
with my heart on a trigger.

They say before you start a war,
you better know what you’re fighting for.
Well baby, you are all that I adore,
If love is what you need, a soldier I will be.

I’m an angel with a shotgun,
fighting til’ the wars won,
I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back.
I’ll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe.
Don’t you know you’re everything I have?
And I, wanna live, not just survive, tonight.

Sometimes to win, you’ve got to sin,
don’t mean I’m not a believer.
And major Tom, will sing along.
Yeah, they still say I’m a dreamer.

They say before you start a war,
you better know what you’re fighting for.
Well baby, you are all that I adore,
If love is what you need, a soldier I will be.

I’m an angel with a shotgun,
fighting til’ the wars won,
I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back.
I’ll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe.
Don’t you know you’re everything I have?
.And I, wanna live, not just survive, tonight.

ooooohhhhhhhh, ooooooohhhhh whoa whoa oooh whoa

I’m an angel with a shotgun..
fighting til’ the wars won..
I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back..

I’m an angel with a shotgun,
fighting til’ the wars won,
I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back.
I’ll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe.
Don’t you know you’re everything I have?
(I’m an angel with a shotgun)
And I, want to live, not just survive, tonight.
(Live, not just survive)

.And I’m gonna hide, hide, hide my wings tonight.

They say before you start a war,
you better know what you’re fighting for.
Well baby, you are all that I adore,
if love is what you need, a soldier I will be.

Nabila tweeted about how The Cab’s latest album art (Symphony Soldier) was awesome and I had also almost immediately took to her liking. I downloaded the album and now I have another favorite song. It is not purely because I am now literally a soldier that’s why I took a liking. I enjoy the lyrics as much as the tune of Angle With A Shotgun by The Cab.

And mind you, Sarah Gilson, paid $2000 USD for the Captain version of this album.

I am writing now.

The beginning of the month, I was out of Stagmont camp again to go on course which teaches and equips commanders with the necessary skills to protect important places and deal with intruders. Well, at least that is the politically correct answer. I used to satirize and make a joke out of every ridiculous things I do but I’ve known better not to do so. I am now a very dull and uninteresting person. When you get to this sentence, I am pretty sure your mind have wandered and have already started thinking what to eat for breakfast tomorrow.

I’ve been told that my Officer Commanding has nominated me for the Excellent Instructor Award and the date for the evaluation of my skills (this word is VERY subjective) by my Commanding Officer is less than a month away. It is set to be on 11 November ’11. A very good looking date for a very tedious, demanding and nerve-wrecking task. I don’t even know how I should feel. There are nine nominees and only five would bring home the award and $200 book voucher from the Chief Signal Officer.

It is also a little unnerving because I am the only junior specialist. The other nominees are what? Staff Sergeants, Master Sergeants and Warrant Officers. Ohmyworld. I am so not getting this.

My deposition would usually be, “okay, let me just try my best and its all right if I don’t win.” But I subconsciously realized I am actually trying to bring this a notch higher. I am more determined than usual because I would like a certificate from the Chief Signal Officer. With that, I can put it next to my testimony signed by the Chief Financial Officer when I was an intern at Singapore Press Holdings. If you think I am about to showcase to the world about these achievements, you are wrong. I see them as personal milestones because people will eventually forget and I would remember.

On the lighter side, if I ever did screw up on 11 November ’11, I will be on a flight next day to Auckland and I probably won’t be returning to Singapore. I would beg the most vicious gangster to rob me of my travel documents so I am perpetually trapped in New Zealand. Yes, THAT COUNTRY WITH VERY GOOD AND COOL WEATHER.

I am looking forward to my vacation slash expedition slash #getthehelloutofhere endeavor. Since I am still a soldier, I am calling it Exercise Aotearoa. It is pronounced AU-TI-UH-ROW-UH. DON’T YOU DARE ROLL YOUR EYES.

Just like that I’m crawling back to you
Just like you said I would yeah
I swallow my pride
Now I’m crawling back to you
I’m out of my head
Can’t wait any longer
Down on my knees, I thought I was stronger
Just like that, like you said I’d do
I’m crawling back to you

Time can heal, but the scars only hide the way you feel
And it’s hard to forget how I left you hanging
On by a thread, when everything is said, I will regret it, yeah
I was doin’ alright, thought I could make it
Then I see your face and it’s hard to fake it

Just like that I’m crawling back to you
Just like you said I would yeah
I swallow my pride
Now I’m crawling back to you
I’m out of my head
Can’t wait any longer
Down on my knees, I thought I was stronger
Just like that, like you said I’d do
I’m crawling back to you

If you could find a way, to forgive everything, I know you would
And I would take it all back, give if only I knew that I could

Lessons learned, bridges burned to the ground
And it’s too late now, to put out the fire

Just like that I’m crawling back to you
Just like you said I would yeah
I swallow my pride
Now I’m crawling back to you
I’m out of my head
Can’t wait any longer
Down on my knees, I thought I was stronger
Just like that, like you said I’d do
I’m crawling back to you

I’m crawling back to you
I’m crawling back to you
I’m crawling back to you

Crawling Back To You by Daughtry