To make up for the lack

It feels as if a lot has been going on lately, but at the same time, life hasn't exactly occurred to me as something eventful. Perhaps it's really because of the lack of updates here. They say that a life unexamined is a life not worth living, and from how I feel about mine right now, I guess the quote really does make a lot of sense. Truth to be told, lately I've only really just allowed my days to blend into one another; just allowed myself to go indifferently with the motions. And I reckon that if I don't start documenting my days (like how I always awesomely did in secondary school), I will definitely regret slowly forgetting everything I'm doing now in the future. I guess this is also a weak attempt at 'reviving' my rotting brain as of the beginning of this year... and not until after the end of next year. :'( Hopefully in the process of writing this I would be able to at least properly think about all that's happened over the past few days.

The day before yesterday was really one of those days which I would mark off on my calendar in anticipation. :) A couple days back, BK asked if I wanted to join Kenny & him for a short shopping trip in town, and I was actually really glad he asked so, because we haven't seen one another for over a month already (since end BMT). So yes, of course I agreed, and we met. Walked around for a bit at Tangs before going for lunch at this pretty casual but decent Japanese restaurant in Mandarin Gallery called Tonkatsu Ma Maison. Not a very huge fan of deep fried pork cutlets, but I have to say that the experience was pretty authentic –food-wise at least – it's among few of the many Japanese restaurants I've visited in Singapore which actually serve traditional appetizers, barley tea and the very delicious 珍珠米 (literally pearl rice, though I don't exactly know if that's the right English term; and actually, I reckon a lot of Japanese/Korean restaurants do serve that sort of rice... but theirs tasted just tasted especially good for some reason :D). After lunch we headed to H&M upon Kenny's request. Was also my first time entering the store at Orchard Central, and though there were some items that caught my eye, I was really tentative about even trying them. And I think that's really what makes me such a difficult shopper – I keep thinking about the possibility of finding greater deals somewhere, but at the same time, I'm not actually resourceful enough to have plenty of alternatives at my disposal, or willing enough to go the extra mile in my hunt for these deals. :/

Satisfied my ice cream cravings after that at the Cold Stone Creamery nearby, after which we just continued with the (for my case) usual window shopping before leaving. It was a simple but nice day with them I guess, though it actually didn't exactly come easy for me. I know, it's pretty outrageous to learn that even meeting up with somebody can take a lot of effort, but I'm always caught in the situation where trade-offs have to be made between my different groups of friends, and it's rather frustrating when you're forced to make a decision on which group is more important and deserves more prioritizing because yeah, your schedule is just too packed to accommodate each pathetically short weekend, especially when me-time, no matter how short, is still very much essential. Don't get me wrong though, I'm not suggesting that I'm popular or in high demand or anything (as in what many of my friends always jokingly call me when I'm complaining about this... but come to think of it, I can't and I won't be like that, so that's a relief). It all just goes back to the annoying reality that for these two years, I'm gonna have so much time during the weekdays that can't be transferred to the weekends. And this brings me back to the classic complaint about NS, though I have better things to do now than get to that rant (can't see myself resisting the temptation to blog about this in another entry though hahaha).

So as with every Saturday night, I went to church. Truth to be told, I wasn't expecting anything out of the ordinary because I was just reeeeaaaallll sleepy. And to be honest, I dozed off occasionally during the parts leading up to the sharing that somehow I was wide awake for and yeah, the sharing that cleared up a lot of doubts for myself. Basically, the pastor was talking about the tabernacle and the need to engage in fellowship with God, and he led us to Hebrews 4:15-16: "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need".

I've been to this verse a couple of times in the past, but it has never struck me quite like the premise in which the pastor brought his point across that night. Basically, what he meant to say was that Jesus understood. And that there's no condemnation in Christ precisely because of this understanding; this ability to symphatise with humans and how at times, they may turn weak from fleshly temptations, because it was said that Jesus has once gone through and experienced the ordeals of the people in this world. And that THEREFORE, we can boldly approach the throne in times of need, broken or whole. Upon this realization, I immediately thought of the homosexuals for some reason, and how I've finally found a way to reconcile my faith with my support for the freedom to love. Because I realised that ultimately, the Bible is based on love and acceptance, and as perfectly embodied in the verse, they're the prime, enduring qualities of Jesus. What's important isn't those petty fights between religious groups and agnostics/atheists over whether or not homosexuality is a sin/choice, but rather to step back and see the bigger picture of understanding leading to love and acceptance. That's what a relationship based on faith should be like – gracefully simple yet immensely meaningful. Free from chains that bind us down, close off our minds, confuse us and draw divisions. Because what's the point of subscribing to a religion then?

Of course, there's always the problem of cheap grace. The problem of the Parable of the Prodigal Son repeating itself so many times such that the underlying meaning of it all begins to fade. But I also figured that at the end of the day, the curtains close. For a Christian, it'll only be an affair between him and God, nothing more, nothing less. If we are truly wholehearted about God being central in our lives, no one will have the power to know besides God and ourselves. And that's why I believe in this case, it's more of learning how to live with ourselves when everything is stripped down to its basics. And it doesn't have to be antagonistic to all the apparently bad things we have done in the past. There just really needs to be sincerity and genuineness. That's what I think.

I guess there's still a lot of things I haven't yet said, but this should be more than sufficient for now. I'm always like this – just me and my verbose thoughts. Don't know if it's a good or bad thing though. But I don't really think it's applicable... because I'll never really know if there's people reading this or not. ;)

Melancholia

The rain outside my bunk right now's surprisingly heavy. Dozed off half-naked while sitting on my bed under the drowsy heat of the early afternoon, only to wake up to flashes of lightning I could already sense with my eyes still closed, and loud, loud claps of thunder which eventually jolted me awake.

There's definitely melancholia to be found when you're in a wide, half-vacant army bunk, still a little dazed from your nap earlier, feeling the lucky few raindrops that somehow flew right through the window into the room pat against your skin, and hearing the drizzle outside. And it's this melancholia which compelled me to spontaneously open the Blogger app on my phone. "Whip up an entry with whatever words are still left in your head," Melancholia told me.

I don't mean to sound poetic at all. In fact, with all this tiredness inside me, I don't think I'll even have the strength needed for the conscious effort that goes behind the poetry. Just rambling here, and yeah, I guess I have a lot to ramble about.

I'm always cleaning up after making a mess out of myself. And this year, I've been doing it countless of times. Not that it's not a good thing, though. We would all definitely appreciate a 'moving on' phase to round up every personal catastrophe faced, but it doesn't come easy. Effort needs to be spent in order to get over something. And when that spent effort accumulates catastrophe after catastrophe, it just leaves one drained, tired. Spent. Not long ago I realised that I reached this state of tiredness, that my struggles have once again caught up to me, and I regretfully drowned in them. All those thoughts that invaded my head, they wielded their weapons as sentences strung out of the ugliest, most cutting words, and I couldn't help but feel powerless against them.

I know this definitely isn't going to end as a hopeful story of absolute victory over the self-destructive parts of me which I absolutely hate. But I will always believe that with this immense tiredness comes the much-needed rest; the precious awakening. The kind where you find yourself on the beach in a peaceful morning all of a sudden, not quite able to remember last night's massive storm. Because somewhere along the way, the light enters, even if it comes in little, nothing bursts. Bit by bit, they break open the empty shell, and I'm always reminded of His promises once again.

I guess it's not necessarily about positivity, but rather of melancholia – the slow realization that although struggles are necessary, they don't have to become my identity. It's not going to end anytime soon, as change doesn't occur overnight. I'll still be feeling what I felt in the near future. But with that, I'll also be reminded that whatever isn't in line with God's vision for us will not be here to stay.

POP, and the block leave after

Well, what can I say? That above was me just slightly over a week ago, and now I'm here, recounting the past week and all that happened. I guess I spent my break well, but as to whether I'm ready to embrace my new vocation... I wouldn't say so much for now. The break was a great escapade from military life anyway, and though I didn't spend much of it on my personal productive pursuits, it pretty much reinforced quite a lot of my existing friendships, and I'm thankful for that. :) Now that everything's said and done, it's finally time to thumb through the past week day by day.

Saturday
... was THE day. The day of our POP. The day when we could just forget about all the silly mistakes we committed during BMT and call ourselves soldiers anyway. Or the day when we could finally look back at our journey with one another in Tekong with smiles on our faces and the knowledge that somehow, something in us changed for the better, turned us into a 'real soldier'. Regardless of everything, it was THE day. Lol.

In most cases, when the topic of POP comes to mind, it would simply be seen as the end of BMT, rather than as a thing in itself. As much as the former is true, I guess I shouldn't also disregard the entire process that led to this 'end'. Actually, scratch that — I don't want to disregard that at all, considering the fact that it was pretty painful as well, haha. Even during the 24km route march, I was subject to new experiences (to be more accurate, shades of pain) — sustained blisters on my left foot at the 9km mark (I really didn't get what happened there; thought I was already a seasoned marcher), and so I effectively limped the remaining 16km to the floating platform. And to be honest, I wasn't really able to chew on that pain very well during the later half of the march, especially when all of us had to march through this route undergoing heavy construction which was, in actual fact, 4.5km long (when all the sergeants tried to sugarcoat their words by telling us it's "3km but might seem terribly long"). At that point I was already throwing fits within myself, and I guess my facial expression wasn't exactly a sight to behold, though thankfully, who actually would've bothered about how I looked so far into the march. Nonetheless, I did enjoy some bits of the 24km, such as chatting with BK and Alvin during the first half when we were still trudging through the long stretch between Changi Coast and ECP (it was like a cherry on top of a load of crap), and the most important thing is that I didn't fall out at any point in the march. There were definitely a lot of 'everything is just pointless' moments during the march when I would just catch myself thinking that this POP doesn't warrant so much effort at all, but after stubbornly not giving up and finally being able to march into the parade square as a contingent, I found myself tearing a little. I guess that moment when all of us walked out into claps from the audience and a beautifully sunny morning was epic in the sense that it made me realise that somehow or another, it was all worth it. But really, that was quite a lot of emotion I had there that day. Not to mention, I'm also really grateful for my family and close friends who dropped by to say hi and to congratulate me. Really meant a lot! And they're also responsible for the pictures below. Aren't they awesome. (Y)