Hey, what's going on? My name's Aaron. Throughout my life, I try to take everything on the lighter, more humorous side, not saying that I'd like to take the cup for being half full; I prefer being a realist. I only have 250ml of water in that 500ml cup. However, what's the fun in drinking that water if you don't mix some syrup in it, or spit it at some asshole.
I'm not gonna beat around the bush and make this sound weirder than it already sounds. If I forwarded this to you, then you already know, that I'm interested in you. And if you weren't linked to this by me, then I want you to know, that I am, sociable, accepting, and simply, just looking for company to explore all there might be to life.
I attended school in Kranji primary, went to Swiss Cottage Secondary and then to Anderson Junior College. That's for the budding years of my life, where I've been relatively sheltered and confined to a half of Singapore. I could tell you, that I (like all boys) wanted to be an astronaut when I was young. Then somewhere along my coming of age, I wanted to be some cool scientist, and then a president. I could tell you, that with all those childhood aspirations aside, I am now, aiming to be a doctor, specifically a diagnostician, with a MD rank. Something like that, but basically nothing I couldn't tell you if you choose to go on a first date with me.
I could also guess that you are probably independent, bubbly, open, attractive and just probably interesting. Nothing that I could say that would make me sound like a douche that reuses the same pickup line again and again, but this is after all, a generalized letter, on the internet. But if I wanted you to read this post, then you are definitely an interesting person whom I want to meet and get to know.
Newton's flaming laser sword is a philosophical razor with the principle that says that what cannot be proven by experiment is not worth debating whether true or not. If you are as wonderful as you are for me to send you this letter then I don't want us to simply speculate if we were as cool as we think each other to be. Let's try for sure, it could be fun, what's there to lose?
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Sunday, February 1, 2015
New year, New Resolutions
Some strive to improve themselves through a series of self-inflicted challenges. Some believe that they were conjured to fulfill a certain enigmatic purpose of life. Whereas some simply struggle between the constant battle of life and death so barely that they simply resent the very "gift" of life. But you, the one reading this, you don't relate to this, you've barely seen death outside your science fiction marvel movies. (Fine, who am I to judge, your life is so tough with your overbearing parents not giving you enough freedom and instead confining you to your dreadful room fully equipped with a laptop and functioning air condition. Arrest me.)
What I'm trying to say, is that at some point of your budding (or ending) life, surely being literate has gifted you with enough of a self-consciousness to question your existence... (Of course, I'm not saying that you have to be able to count to 10 to achieve a greater degree of self-awareness; satori has been achieved by many unlearned individuals.) And with that questioning, comes a realization; a realization that perhaps compels you to find a purpose in life that appeals to you.
On the other hand, if you actually haven't questioned your life in such a way before (these things come as some sort of an epiphany anyway, and many a times while you are drunk), or you are some self-righteous nihilistic person. Let me appeal to you that though it may seem straight-forward and justified to simply conclude that we, humans, are simply miraculous wonders of chemistry that exist because there was an infinite number of trial and errors in the primordial soup that resulted in us. It is a fact, that these millions of centuries of trial and error has given us an overly-evolved brain; one that requires extensive stimulation and purpose to be something other than a brain dead individual.
That being said, finding a purpose in life in such a short span of time, especially if you are my age would not only be doubtful but highly likely to be ill-conceived. Cross that out. Focus on the other part instead: Stimulation (and something other than endless debauchery). The engagement of ones mind such that every connection, every neural pathway is engaged and strengthened... But how does one achieve constant stimulation that reaches even the most shrouded and obscure reaches of our minds?
Well, in my opinion, leading a purposeful way of life seems like a good start. That, though, is not to be confused with a life of extreme-altruism as some may falsely assume, you're not Oliver Queen or some humanoid Arceus. Such "purpose" varies between individuals, it speaks to you, representing you, your passions, and in my opinion, who you would want to be if you had a limitless amount of energy everyday.
Let's say your passion lies in music, very well, then go for it, take every step you feel is required such that 5; 10 years down the road, you'd have achieved what you wanted your life to be. Confucius once said, "Make the most of everyday" (He didn't say that, but I'm sure there a Chinese saying that means that). The problem with such a dynamic lifestyle however, is its sustainability. Like what they say, "Its hard to score a goal when you can't even see the post." (Or, something like that, I'm sure there's some Chinese saying that means that.) It's easy to lose focus; to fall into the spiral of a passive lifestyle where your neural pathways go limp and zombified.
Recently... Okay, not so recently, a realization hit me while I was doing nothing in life. I am in that spiral. Though not in that stereotypical highly repetitive lifestyle where one does the same thing everyday, every week for me is generally the same. Serve the nation, rush for bookout, spend the weekend comforting myself, rinse and repeat. Slowly my neural network diminishes, situational awareness drops, cognitive ability fails, attention span truncated and self-control, virtually non-existent. And if you think I may be over-dramatizing things, just note that I've been writing this post over a span of 10 weeks.
I want to become a doctor. I want to learn to drive. I want to master the guitar. I want to buy a house, before I hit 25. But all my will and drive to accomplish such things, are simply thwarted by my lack of self-control, my pity for thyself and all in all my superior procrastination skills. Well actually, now that I think of it, add in the illusion that everything will be better than what my cognitive mind expects.
Break the cycle. I have exactly 2 months until I finish ATEC, and a month after that when I finish my last overseas trip that marks the end of my busy period in NS. That, would be my dateline. The dateline where I start taking steps toward my goals and away from the self-rendered stand-still where I was ever since NS started. I'm a big boy now, and what I'm doing right now, is not sustainable for the future. The spiral is gonna consume me, destroy me, engulf me in nothing but sorrow till the end of all days. (Yes, that is a little over-dramatizing. But if I may, play End of All Days by 30 Seconds to Mars right now and read that again...I know, right.) So, with all the bullshit being said, here goes my resolution, that the last 8 months of NS would be nothing but strong determination to fulfill my goals and claw my way out of this spiral.
And should I decide to let this comfortable stale ground suck me in instead; God find me the Ark of Covenant for the pace of this vast dog-eat-dog world, I heard, is nothing but unforgiving.
On the other hand, if you actually haven't questioned your life in such a way before (these things come as some sort of an epiphany anyway, and many a times while you are drunk), or you are some self-righteous nihilistic person. Let me appeal to you that though it may seem straight-forward and justified to simply conclude that we, humans, are simply miraculous wonders of chemistry that exist because there was an infinite number of trial and errors in the primordial soup that resulted in us. It is a fact, that these millions of centuries of trial and error has given us an overly-evolved brain; one that requires extensive stimulation and purpose to be something other than a brain dead individual.
That being said, finding a purpose in life in such a short span of time, especially if you are my age would not only be doubtful but highly likely to be ill-conceived. Cross that out. Focus on the other part instead: Stimulation (and something other than endless debauchery). The engagement of ones mind such that every connection, every neural pathway is engaged and strengthened... But how does one achieve constant stimulation that reaches even the most shrouded and obscure reaches of our minds?
Well, in my opinion, leading a purposeful way of life seems like a good start. That, though, is not to be confused with a life of extreme-altruism as some may falsely assume, you're not Oliver Queen or some humanoid Arceus. Such "purpose" varies between individuals, it speaks to you, representing you, your passions, and in my opinion, who you would want to be if you had a limitless amount of energy everyday.
Let's say your passion lies in music, very well, then go for it, take every step you feel is required such that 5; 10 years down the road, you'd have achieved what you wanted your life to be. Confucius once said, "Make the most of everyday" (He didn't say that, but I'm sure there a Chinese saying that means that). The problem with such a dynamic lifestyle however, is its sustainability. Like what they say, "Its hard to score a goal when you can't even see the post." (Or, something like that, I'm sure there's some Chinese saying that means that.) It's easy to lose focus; to fall into the spiral of a passive lifestyle where your neural pathways go limp and zombified.
Recently... Okay, not so recently, a realization hit me while I was doing nothing in life. I am in that spiral. Though not in that stereotypical highly repetitive lifestyle where one does the same thing everyday, every week for me is generally the same. Serve the nation, rush for bookout, spend the weekend comforting myself, rinse and repeat. Slowly my neural network diminishes, situational awareness drops, cognitive ability fails, attention span truncated and self-control, virtually non-existent. And if you think I may be over-dramatizing things, just note that I've been writing this post over a span of 10 weeks.
I want to become a doctor. I want to learn to drive. I want to master the guitar. I want to buy a house, before I hit 25. But all my will and drive to accomplish such things, are simply thwarted by my lack of self-control, my pity for thyself and all in all my superior procrastination skills. Well actually, now that I think of it, add in the illusion that everything will be better than what my cognitive mind expects.
Break the cycle. I have exactly 2 months until I finish ATEC, and a month after that when I finish my last overseas trip that marks the end of my busy period in NS. That, would be my dateline. The dateline where I start taking steps toward my goals and away from the self-rendered stand-still where I was ever since NS started. I'm a big boy now, and what I'm doing right now, is not sustainable for the future. The spiral is gonna consume me, destroy me, engulf me in nothing but sorrow till the end of all days. (Yes, that is a little over-dramatizing. But if I may, play End of All Days by 30 Seconds to Mars right now and read that again...I know, right.) So, with all the bullshit being said, here goes my resolution, that the last 8 months of NS would be nothing but strong determination to fulfill my goals and claw my way out of this spiral.
And should I decide to let this comfortable stale ground suck me in instead; God find me the Ark of Covenant for the pace of this vast dog-eat-dog world, I heard, is nothing but unforgiving.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
The basis of a desire in the path of Medicine
11 weeks. That's the amount of time since I sold my hair, my blitheful lifestyle and, most probably, my soul as well to the government for a monthly payment of $480 (Well technically it's $780 as of now but why would you care about how much money I get?) .
So what's going on in my life now? For a first, I'm now undergoing my vocational training phase as a weapon man - we ensure you know how to point your weapon so you don't do favours for the enemy. Just imagine, running through mud, blood, flesh and basically a mosh pit of hell, you've finally cornered your enemy. Walking up to the helpless praying bambi that was gunning down your buddies a few seconds ago, you put on your shades to have the perfect Arnold Schwarzenegger moment...BANG...you shoot yourself in the head because no one ever taught you where the weapon shoots out from. See our importance now?
Moving on, I've also been accepted into the NTU school of biological science along with the college scholarship. why the choice in this course you may ask, and truthfully, I'm not so sure. for a long time now, I've considered being a doctor to be one of my biggest life goals (there are of course many other life goals, for example, to find a girlfriend, hopefully, before I turn 40). However, thanks to my sub-par results, I may not stand a good chance against the other applicants. Leaving me with two options: Ignore the odds. Or, consider the alternative pathways. That is, biological sciences. Of course, alternative routes are usually scary and un-advised. Just ask Red Riding Hood if you don't believe me, but then again, asking someone else, is also an alternate route to coming to the same conclusion that I am right. My point is, the tempting offer of biological sciences and the scholarship offered puts me in a dilemma between that, and trying to get into medicine school where I stand a better chance at becoming a doctor. Recommendations?
In any case, the brighter ones would probably realise that I haven't reached the main topic of this post (If you're wondering what's the main topic of this post, well, I have some news for you...). You smart people would also probably be able to score straight As and be accepted into a medicine school without any dilemmas. God damn it you smart guy. But back to the subject matter: where does my interest in Medicine come from?
It all began about 3 years ago when I started watching one of the best TV series ever produced: House. I recommend all of you to watch it... Just as long as you don't get influenced to want to become a doctor and end up competing with me for slots in Medicine.. you know, on a second thought, don't watch it. Anyway, Hugh Laurie aka Gregory House perfectly captured the essence of how I (and probably many others would like to live life; a badass anarchist, smart and respected. Not that these traits had anything to do with me wanted to be a doctor, but it is, about how House manages to help his patients in ways more than their health despite his unorthodox ways. On to my next point.
Money. Look, I'm not saying money is the key to a happy life, but it is one of the many factors. Bring your attention to a graph illustrating the theory of financial happiness.
As people earn more money, they get more money to be more happy. Yes, millions of "mature" people say money doesn't buy you happiness, but money does buy you things like a trampoline, or a jet ski. Have you ever seen anyone look unhappy on a trampoline or a jet ski? However, as one gets richer, the marginal returns of happiness with increases in wealth dips lower, and lower. This is based on the experiences of many wealthy individuals, but really, do you think, you would be much happier having 50 million dollars instead of 40 million dollars? Having my first financial goal as to purchase my own house, there are only a few jobs that would help me achieve this fast. Of which; a doctor.
One more major reason for my desire would be the responsibilities of a doctor. I hate office work. In fact, I would put a career in business as my last option, right behind working as a.....I just don't want it okay? Firstly, a doctor is responsible for the comfort and health of his patients. I want to be able to make my patients, my family, the people I know, happy with how they feel everyday. Secondly, a doctor decides the treatment received by his patients, chemotherapy, steroid treatment, surgery, stem cell therapy? Whatever, I'm just bombing big medical terms to sound smarter. Basically, you decide the life and death of your patient via your intellectual decisions. Definitely not a pusillanimous job, but definitely challenging and stimulating. Lastly, like House, I would like to be a doctor able to change my patients' lives for the better, even after they recover from their infected penises, or whatever. Able to see where their illnesses came from, so we can avoid ever seeing them again; not in a horrific defunct manner you repugnant ass.
What is the purpose of a doctor? To heal, save, and better the lives of others. Exactly, that is what I want to do. Of course with having a happy life myself as well. Get a job you like, and you'll never work a day in life. Not only that, you'll also get immensely rich without working. Well, not immensely rich with the cost of living in Singapore rising faster than Moore's Law, but, rich enough to reach an optimal position according to the theory of financial happiness.
Now, if you are still wondering what the main topic of the post is, or the news I had for you earlier in this post. Man, do I have some news for you....
So what's going on in my life now? For a first, I'm now undergoing my vocational training phase as a weapon man - we ensure you know how to point your weapon so you don't do favours for the enemy. Just imagine, running through mud, blood, flesh and basically a mosh pit of hell, you've finally cornered your enemy. Walking up to the helpless praying bambi that was gunning down your buddies a few seconds ago, you put on your shades to have the perfect Arnold Schwarzenegger moment...BANG...you shoot yourself in the head because no one ever taught you where the weapon shoots out from. See our importance now?
Moving on, I've also been accepted into the NTU school of biological science along with the college scholarship. why the choice in this course you may ask, and truthfully, I'm not so sure. for a long time now, I've considered being a doctor to be one of my biggest life goals (there are of course many other life goals, for example, to find a girlfriend, hopefully, before I turn 40). However, thanks to my sub-par results, I may not stand a good chance against the other applicants. Leaving me with two options: Ignore the odds. Or, consider the alternative pathways. That is, biological sciences. Of course, alternative routes are usually scary and un-advised. Just ask Red Riding Hood if you don't believe me, but then again, asking someone else, is also an alternate route to coming to the same conclusion that I am right. My point is, the tempting offer of biological sciences and the scholarship offered puts me in a dilemma between that, and trying to get into medicine school where I stand a better chance at becoming a doctor. Recommendations?
In any case, the brighter ones would probably realise that I haven't reached the main topic of this post (If you're wondering what's the main topic of this post, well, I have some news for you...). You smart people would also probably be able to score straight As and be accepted into a medicine school without any dilemmas. God damn it you smart guy. But back to the subject matter: where does my interest in Medicine come from?
It all began about 3 years ago when I started watching one of the best TV series ever produced: House. I recommend all of you to watch it... Just as long as you don't get influenced to want to become a doctor and end up competing with me for slots in Medicine.. you know, on a second thought, don't watch it. Anyway, Hugh Laurie aka Gregory House perfectly captured the essence of how I (and probably many others would like to live life; a badass anarchist, smart and respected. Not that these traits had anything to do with me wanted to be a doctor, but it is, about how House manages to help his patients in ways more than their health despite his unorthodox ways. On to my next point.
Money. Look, I'm not saying money is the key to a happy life, but it is one of the many factors. Bring your attention to a graph illustrating the theory of financial happiness.
As people earn more money, they get more money to be more happy. Yes, millions of "mature" people say money doesn't buy you happiness, but money does buy you things like a trampoline, or a jet ski. Have you ever seen anyone look unhappy on a trampoline or a jet ski? However, as one gets richer, the marginal returns of happiness with increases in wealth dips lower, and lower. This is based on the experiences of many wealthy individuals, but really, do you think, you would be much happier having 50 million dollars instead of 40 million dollars? Having my first financial goal as to purchase my own house, there are only a few jobs that would help me achieve this fast. Of which; a doctor.
One more major reason for my desire would be the responsibilities of a doctor. I hate office work. In fact, I would put a career in business as my last option, right behind working as a.....I just don't want it okay? Firstly, a doctor is responsible for the comfort and health of his patients. I want to be able to make my patients, my family, the people I know, happy with how they feel everyday. Secondly, a doctor decides the treatment received by his patients, chemotherapy, steroid treatment, surgery, stem cell therapy? Whatever, I'm just bombing big medical terms to sound smarter. Basically, you decide the life and death of your patient via your intellectual decisions. Definitely not a pusillanimous job, but definitely challenging and stimulating. Lastly, like House, I would like to be a doctor able to change my patients' lives for the better, even after they recover from their infected penises, or whatever. Able to see where their illnesses came from, so we can avoid ever seeing them again; not in a horrific defunct manner you repugnant ass.
What is the purpose of a doctor? To heal, save, and better the lives of others. Exactly, that is what I want to do. Of course with having a happy life myself as well. Get a job you like, and you'll never work a day in life. Not only that, you'll also get immensely rich without working. Well, not immensely rich with the cost of living in Singapore rising faster than Moore's Law, but, rich enough to reach an optimal position according to the theory of financial happiness.
Now, if you are still wondering what the main topic of the post is, or the news I had for you earlier in this post. Man, do I have some news for you....
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Every Singaporean Son
There comes a point in the life of every boy where the universe syncs with the rhythm of the cries of his heart and he transforms from a boy, into a man. For tribal boys in the Amazon, this metamorphosis comes after they are stung by an agonizing neuro-toxin that leaves them gasping for life at the end of the ordeal. Other tribal boys on the other hand treat their balls like phoenix-es sacrificing their balls by leaping off 30 metre towers with a few strands of vine being the barrier between life and the grim reapers's scythe; their balls will then be reborned into bigger, manly balls, that is, if they don't die.
Then on the other side of the table, western boys become men when they lose their virginity (So, yes, you can buy your manhood, you can beg for it, or YOU COULD DO IT THE MANLY WAY *INSERT MANLY ROAR HERE*). However, in places like Singapore where society is just a tangled mess of cultures, the mark of this transition is non-definite. Some still say its when you lose your virginity (if so there are probably tens of thousands full grown boys out there), others mark the transition by just partying at clubs...some perhaps circumcise themselves. But thanks to Jack Neo, we now popularize the notion that boys become men after their journey in National Service.
Sleep deprived, body aching, and psyching myself to get ready for the ordeal of booking in tonight, this is, my experience of the 14 days of "orientation week".
Day 1:
What lies ahead of me? What am I going to turn into? Is this 2 years really going to change me? Day 1 began with my relatives sending me off into camp, of course it really helps to be with your family when you're running late for a military appointment. So all went better than expected, first day food was underwhelming and so was the socializing. As said in my last post, as people transit between phases of their lives like going into NS, motivation fills their bodies resulting in many, many commanding tryhards with superiority complexes. I kept my mouth shut, kinda like many others too. Main challenge of the day was collecting our equipment provided, it was then I realized: You know NS is going to be tough when you have trouble merely carrying your field and duffel pack. By the way did I mention I don't look that bad bald?
Day 3:
I know, Day 3 doesn't come after Day 1, well ain't you a lil' smart ass. Well Day 2 was uneventful, full of lectures and shit. But technically, so was Day 3 except that it was ridden with warnings about how the NS adjustment period was ending tomorrow. What is an adjustment period, you may ask, just think of it somewhat like when you were two and you grew your first teeth to bite your mom's nipple, no one's gonna scold you for doing it, they just reward you with more milk, wew.
Day 4:
Psych for total annihilation, say goodbye to your arms, and banish your will to live into oblivion. What was left of hair on our scalps were raised in alarm to do our best not to get pumped by anyone, and anything said by anyone with symbols on their rank tag was like the moment before a fright in a horror film. Regardless, we took our first IPPT (I can't run, don't ask why) and ended the day, having done a mere 30 push ups, what a scare.
Day 5:
Perhaps the most inspiring moment every recruit will have before their ORD would be the rifle presenting ceremony. We were arranged in order of height...and I would say, if I was 20cm taller, I would have shook the hands of big shots...if I was taller. The parade was still inspiring after all, refilling all the tryhards with more temporal motivation, and I guess, it was needed, cos for the next few days, our rifles (or "wives") proceeded to screw us over (No euphemism intended).
Day 7:
Valentines day. Love is in the air. Hormones spewing. Testicles are going into overdrive and the sperms of us recruits are overflowing into our brains. I didn't get a desired response, but I don't regret what I did...
Anyway, have you heard of the saying that NS turns boys to men, but in the process it robs our intelligence leaving nothing but stupidity. NS doesn't rob our ability to think, the sleep deprivation that comes with NS does. Even during the time after lights out, I slowly feel my brain cells just dying in hope for a more sleep filled afterlife, and despite knowing this, my newly developed stupidity still compels me to deprive myself of more sleep by using my phone.
Day 10:
So begins our time at Nee Soon camp to finally shoot our wives (euphemism intended). This "camp" did go on for 3 days till day 12, but really, all that was required was one day for I hit my marksman criteria on the first day. Both inessential and detested, every day our highly packed field pack, helmets, battle vest and rifle worked in unison with Satan to pull our souls closer to the ground. Back and shoulders screaming mercy, and body spewing what ever moisture that was in our skins, we wondered how our 72 km road march would be like when the most we marched was probably only 2 km.
Day 14:
Guess what day it is? BOOK OUT DAY. I may not have been looking forward to coming home, or the food because the food at Pasir Ris camp, is, really darn good, but I did look forward to experiencing aircon, civilian clothing, and quite significantly, the freedom to cross my legs whenever I wanted. Our feelings were played with as instructors changed instructions that determined whether our bookout was going to be smooth or not; it was smoother than expected. However deep inside of me, I know it wouldn't be that easy in future, especially with my IPPT results.
On a side note though, there are certain things I remember vaguely without the respective dates they occurred on (Thanks to my dying brain). Like how the resident big shot boss in camp told us that we, chosen recruits, are the top 10% of our batch in terms of family history, personality, health and IQ (though perhaps not so much on that anymore). I took pride that my personality had traits of anti-establishment character (Yes, we are taught to be good, and proud of it).
Book in in less than 7 hours. Hello again regimentation.
Then on the other side of the table, western boys become men when they lose their virginity (So, yes, you can buy your manhood, you can beg for it, or YOU COULD DO IT THE MANLY WAY *INSERT MANLY ROAR HERE*). However, in places like Singapore where society is just a tangled mess of cultures, the mark of this transition is non-definite. Some still say its when you lose your virginity (if so there are probably tens of thousands full grown boys out there), others mark the transition by just partying at clubs...some perhaps circumcise themselves. But thanks to Jack Neo, we now popularize the notion that boys become men after their journey in National Service.
Sleep deprived, body aching, and psyching myself to get ready for the ordeal of booking in tonight, this is, my experience of the 14 days of "orientation week".
Day 1:
What lies ahead of me? What am I going to turn into? Is this 2 years really going to change me? Day 1 began with my relatives sending me off into camp, of course it really helps to be with your family when you're running late for a military appointment. So all went better than expected, first day food was underwhelming and so was the socializing. As said in my last post, as people transit between phases of their lives like going into NS, motivation fills their bodies resulting in many, many commanding tryhards with superiority complexes. I kept my mouth shut, kinda like many others too. Main challenge of the day was collecting our equipment provided, it was then I realized: You know NS is going to be tough when you have trouble merely carrying your field and duffel pack. By the way did I mention I don't look that bad bald?
Day 3:
I know, Day 3 doesn't come after Day 1, well ain't you a lil' smart ass. Well Day 2 was uneventful, full of lectures and shit. But technically, so was Day 3 except that it was ridden with warnings about how the NS adjustment period was ending tomorrow. What is an adjustment period, you may ask, just think of it somewhat like when you were two and you grew your first teeth to bite your mom's nipple, no one's gonna scold you for doing it, they just reward you with more milk, wew.
Day 4:
Psych for total annihilation, say goodbye to your arms, and banish your will to live into oblivion. What was left of hair on our scalps were raised in alarm to do our best not to get pumped by anyone, and anything said by anyone with symbols on their rank tag was like the moment before a fright in a horror film. Regardless, we took our first IPPT (I can't run, don't ask why) and ended the day, having done a mere 30 push ups, what a scare.
Day 5:
Perhaps the most inspiring moment every recruit will have before their ORD would be the rifle presenting ceremony. We were arranged in order of height...and I would say, if I was 20cm taller, I would have shook the hands of big shots...if I was taller. The parade was still inspiring after all, refilling all the tryhards with more temporal motivation, and I guess, it was needed, cos for the next few days, our rifles (or "wives") proceeded to screw us over (No euphemism intended).
Day 7:
Valentines day. Love is in the air. Hormones spewing. Testicles are going into overdrive and the sperms of us recruits are overflowing into our brains. I didn't get a desired response, but I don't regret what I did...
Anyway, have you heard of the saying that NS turns boys to men, but in the process it robs our intelligence leaving nothing but stupidity. NS doesn't rob our ability to think, the sleep deprivation that comes with NS does. Even during the time after lights out, I slowly feel my brain cells just dying in hope for a more sleep filled afterlife, and despite knowing this, my newly developed stupidity still compels me to deprive myself of more sleep by using my phone.
Day 10:
So begins our time at Nee Soon camp to finally shoot our wives (euphemism intended). This "camp" did go on for 3 days till day 12, but really, all that was required was one day for I hit my marksman criteria on the first day. Both inessential and detested, every day our highly packed field pack, helmets, battle vest and rifle worked in unison with Satan to pull our souls closer to the ground. Back and shoulders screaming mercy, and body spewing what ever moisture that was in our skins, we wondered how our 72 km road march would be like when the most we marched was probably only 2 km.
Day 14:
Guess what day it is? BOOK OUT DAY. I may not have been looking forward to coming home, or the food because the food at Pasir Ris camp, is, really darn good, but I did look forward to experiencing aircon, civilian clothing, and quite significantly, the freedom to cross my legs whenever I wanted. Our feelings were played with as instructors changed instructions that determined whether our bookout was going to be smooth or not; it was smoother than expected. However deep inside of me, I know it wouldn't be that easy in future, especially with my IPPT results.
On a side note though, there are certain things I remember vaguely without the respective dates they occurred on (Thanks to my dying brain). Like how the resident big shot boss in camp told us that we, chosen recruits, are the top 10% of our batch in terms of family history, personality, health and IQ (though perhaps not so much on that anymore). I took pride that my personality had traits of anti-establishment character (Yes, we are taught to be good, and proud of it).
Book in in less than 7 hours. Hello again regimentation.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Get your Chinese New Year priorities straight!
If my second experience at a club taught me anything, it would be that I forgot,the most fundamental rule of clubbing in my third post; ALWAYS BRING YOUR IC. Not that it would help save an exorbitant taxi fare for rushing back to your home and back to the club who's location you had painstakingly tracked down, but yes, it saves you an exorbitant taxi fare from rushing back and back again(If you get what I mean). Oh, and by the way, it also allows you to remain with your friends, ensuring that you are able to develop into the life of the party you planned to be.
The whole plan of going to Zouk on the 29th was to celebrate and ensure Glen has a (relatively) spectacularly carnal 19th birthday, mission was accomplished. But I'm pretty sure everyone was feeling that our missions for the night could have been over-achieved if we went to a club where mere walking didn't involve pressing your rapidly overheating body against sweat-drenched zombies at all 8 directions at any one time. Regardless, my point is, just, BRING YOUR IC.
Anyhow, in the stress-free periods between major transitions in our lives where we don't have anything to do, it seems to me that we measure time by noting when the next event in our lives is going to be. Glen's birthday is over, next is the Chinese New Year, and I ask you, huat ma?
I guess from many things I hear, Chinese New Year is a time about getting AngBaos, eating, and having gatherings with friends...oh yeah, and getting back in touch with distant relatives too, yeah..that. Once again, lets break Chinese New Year down into three aspects: Family, Gambling, Friends.
Just follow your morals, you confused adolescent
Needless to say, from the time we entered the education system or even before that, we Singaporean youths have been taught that the true purpose of Chinese New Year is for families to catch up and "re-bond". (By families, I refer to whole generations and dynasties as in the olden Chinese times, and not America's nuclear family) Perhaps youths nowadays are faced with the dilemma whether to get a life and follow their friends or to be a good child and visit their mother's uncle's cousin's brother in law. Usually I would offer my opinion without exactly asserting it (Don't question me, I don't assert), but for this scenario, I strongly recommend that not only should you fulfil the true meaning of Chinese New Year, but also, do it wholeheartedly (That means, to socialize..Don't look so scared, they won't eat you up. Except that one auntie you see every year who takes the foundations of her make up to fairness that makes the snow of Mount Everest look like the night sky).
We all have that one relative that we really dread seeing. One of my distant relative repeats year after year, the story of me angrily staring at him when I was young, maybe, to get back at me, maybe, cos there's nothing better to talk about, I don't know. But no, I'm not standing for it again this year....I said socialize and catch-up with relatives wholeheartedly, not fake it and suck up to them.
Cai Shen Ye: Omnipotent and worshipped
You're playing blackjack with your Aunt's third uncle's cousin with a liking for Chinese New Year goodies and the adrenaline rush from playing high stakes despite the financial state you think he might be in.War cries and blessings are hollered , he slowly exposes his cards (the strength of his voice seem to know no limits and while watching him pry two defenceless cards apart, you half-expect the SSTA to call and ask if there was any opportunity they could finally be doing something significant). It's a pair of Ace. The room goes wild, the nuclear holocaust has begun as you watch a bunch of fifties being passed to him.
All is well, you are impressed, jealous perhaps, but then he bumps his fist on the closest shoulder in sight; you. With all the hype, he easily persuades you to raise your bet by ten folds. Cards are dealt, you close your eyes and start praying for the God of Fortune to bless you....NOW JUST WAIT A MOMENT...you're not a Buddhist?! Neither are you remotely religious, are you, spontaneously accepting Buddhism into your life?? Regardless, you look up and pray, prying your chest, eyes and cards apart...You lost 10 bucks. Are you, a loser with a good or bad personality?
Did my duty to my family, collected my Angbaos, what do I do next?
The one thing that you have had on your mind since Day 1 of course, a gathering and visitation crew with your closest friends. Little needs to be said about the vast differences between various cliques, some like to party, leaving less time for the amassing of highly sought-after Red Packets while the others, just want more money for the very social pressure that richer, is cooler. Whatever it is, do what you have to do, you'll definitely want to have a gang of people to invite to your house in future when the education systems leaves you at the mercy of the "free" Singaporean world.
So, that's the description cum commentary of my Chinese New Year, I may not offer any angbaos, but my house is open to all who know me on any of the 8 days before I enlist into commando camp on the 7th Feb.
You're playing blackjack with your Aunt's third uncle's cousin with a liking for Chinese New Year goodies and the adrenaline rush from playing high stakes despite the financial state you think he might be in.War cries and blessings are hollered , he slowly exposes his cards (the strength of his voice seem to know no limits and while watching him pry two defenceless cards apart, you half-expect the SSTA to call and ask if there was any opportunity they could finally be doing something significant). It's a pair of Ace. The room goes wild, the nuclear holocaust has begun as you watch a bunch of fifties being passed to him.
All is well, you are impressed, jealous perhaps, but then he bumps his fist on the closest shoulder in sight; you. With all the hype, he easily persuades you to raise your bet by ten folds. Cards are dealt, you close your eyes and start praying for the God of Fortune to bless you....NOW JUST WAIT A MOMENT...you're not a Buddhist?! Neither are you remotely religious, are you, spontaneously accepting Buddhism into your life?? Regardless, you look up and pray, prying your chest, eyes and cards apart...You lost 10 bucks. Are you, a loser with a good or bad personality?
Did my duty to my family, collected my Angbaos, what do I do next?
The one thing that you have had on your mind since Day 1 of course, a gathering and visitation crew with your closest friends. Little needs to be said about the vast differences between various cliques, some like to party, leaving less time for the amassing of highly sought-after Red Packets while the others, just want more money for the very social pressure that richer, is cooler. Whatever it is, do what you have to do, you'll definitely want to have a gang of people to invite to your house in future when the education systems leaves you at the mercy of the "free" Singaporean world.
So, that's the description cum commentary of my Chinese New Year, I may not offer any angbaos, but my house is open to all who know me on any of the 8 days before I enlist into commando camp on the 7th Feb.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
The essence of a perfect woman
I'd like to introduce a new concept: The theory of infatuations in relation to age.
Check that graph out, not only did I take more effort than I care to admit to make it, it's also the first picture of my blog. Anyway, this is my theory about how easily someone will get infatuated with a girl as time goes by. You see, we start out life as gutless hormone-less pre-adolescents with disdains for the female population. Time sets in, we grow older, stimulating chemicals engages our testicles into overdrive, suddenly we are not only drawn to girl, but need them to feel whole; thus begins the slow increase in the graph.
Not entirely sure about other countries or any special schools, but the vast majority of Singaporean boys would either get a girlfriend or not get a girlfriend (Maybe the minority are kidnap and sold to the sex trade, I don't know, don't question me smartass). The significance of this is that, every time a guy gets a girlfriend, the timer resets, suddenly he's back to his youthful self where he isn't compelled by his primal instincts to get a girlfriend...because he's already found one, recently. My time without a girlfriend is at 18 this year, and statistics has shown that an 18 year old relationship virgin would get 3 infatuations in a year.
Remember when I said that I went into AJC in the pursuit of this wonderful girl? Efforts were made, testicles were shrunk and the pursuit was fruitless. Going into a school for the reason of wooing a girl; probably not the wisest idea, especially if you aren't close to her to begin with. We chatted, smiled at each other, texted but the point is that we were still distant. Halfway through my first year I met this girl in my CCA that I still am thinking about till today. She isn't actually the one who got away, more of, the one who was let away (Picture a girl being chained down to two large balls, unable to run away, then picture the opposite).
Hold on, I came into the school being set on one girl, suddenly, I'm infatuated with another? Exactly. My 18 year old mind, riddled with cognitive dissonance thus fell back onto a long inculcated supporting belief: Follow your heart, choose one. Needless to say, WHAT KIND OF A BELIEF IS THAT? My directions changed every time I saw one of them, like a tug of war between two equal forces, making slight advances to one side, and then back again. Nothing of value was achieved, and then I got close to another girl....Not elaborating this one...Nope...I gotta get to the main topic of the post.
What exactly am I hoping for in my life? Hard to say, with the first girl I liked, I imagined a normal ordinary life, having fun everyday. I imagined a life travelling around the world with the second. And I imagined a thrill seeking life with the third. John Snow, the doctor that saved millions from the deathly hands of a Cholera outbreak a little less than 200 years ago, taught us to draw conclusions by drawing similarities from evidences. Doing that, I would say that my perfect life with a girl would be one that caters to her personality, making her happy via a way unique and effective to only her. Take that Sherlock.
Readers of this, and my last post would probably be expecting a list of things I want in a perfect woman any time now (Oh you're just waiting for the post to end? Well that's very nice of you, thank you). Regardless of my need to feel condescending sometimes, I do confess that I don't think I would want to spend time listing my hopes and dreams digitally. But I will reveal that, to most people, I am probably less conventional and more modern in my views on relationships, yes, that means, casual sex and a more technical view on things.
Though I may lie awake on my bed everyday thinking about how wonderful it is to find the woman of my dreams and settle down. That's probably not what I need right now, you know, you gotta access all the watermelons on sale before choosing the best one. You gotta survey the forest before you choose the best tree to build a tree house on...You gotta empty the oceans to be sure you have the fish you want. But enough with the symbolisms, perhaps all I want right now, is to just, survey the forest, and explore the oceans. Look for someone to have fun with. Which may explain why two of my favourite God-Mode songs are Bad by The Cab and Sweeter by Gavin Degraw (Step 1: Listen to them. Step 2: Who the hell cares! Nothing can stop you now!)
Did you notice the extremely high portion of the graph after a long time has passed? I'm 19 this year, that means that I still have 21 more years before I start falling in love with mannequins at UNIQLO just because they were kind enough to show people how clothes may look on them. Onwards.
Check that graph out, not only did I take more effort than I care to admit to make it, it's also the first picture of my blog. Anyway, this is my theory about how easily someone will get infatuated with a girl as time goes by. You see, we start out life as gutless hormone-less pre-adolescents with disdains for the female population. Time sets in, we grow older, stimulating chemicals engages our testicles into overdrive, suddenly we are not only drawn to girl, but need them to feel whole; thus begins the slow increase in the graph.
Not entirely sure about other countries or any special schools, but the vast majority of Singaporean boys would either get a girlfriend or not get a girlfriend (Maybe the minority are kidnap and sold to the sex trade, I don't know, don't question me smartass). The significance of this is that, every time a guy gets a girlfriend, the timer resets, suddenly he's back to his youthful self where he isn't compelled by his primal instincts to get a girlfriend...because he's already found one, recently. My time without a girlfriend is at 18 this year, and statistics has shown that an 18 year old relationship virgin would get 3 infatuations in a year.
Remember when I said that I went into AJC in the pursuit of this wonderful girl? Efforts were made, testicles were shrunk and the pursuit was fruitless. Going into a school for the reason of wooing a girl; probably not the wisest idea, especially if you aren't close to her to begin with. We chatted, smiled at each other, texted but the point is that we were still distant. Halfway through my first year I met this girl in my CCA that I still am thinking about till today. She isn't actually the one who got away, more of, the one who was let away (Picture a girl being chained down to two large balls, unable to run away, then picture the opposite).
Hold on, I came into the school being set on one girl, suddenly, I'm infatuated with another? Exactly. My 18 year old mind, riddled with cognitive dissonance thus fell back onto a long inculcated supporting belief: Follow your heart, choose one. Needless to say, WHAT KIND OF A BELIEF IS THAT? My directions changed every time I saw one of them, like a tug of war between two equal forces, making slight advances to one side, and then back again. Nothing of value was achieved, and then I got close to another girl....Not elaborating this one...Nope...I gotta get to the main topic of the post.
What exactly am I hoping for in my life? Hard to say, with the first girl I liked, I imagined a normal ordinary life, having fun everyday. I imagined a life travelling around the world with the second. And I imagined a thrill seeking life with the third. John Snow, the doctor that saved millions from the deathly hands of a Cholera outbreak a little less than 200 years ago, taught us to draw conclusions by drawing similarities from evidences. Doing that, I would say that my perfect life with a girl would be one that caters to her personality, making her happy via a way unique and effective to only her. Take that Sherlock.
Readers of this, and my last post would probably be expecting a list of things I want in a perfect woman any time now (Oh you're just waiting for the post to end? Well that's very nice of you, thank you). Regardless of my need to feel condescending sometimes, I do confess that I don't think I would want to spend time listing my hopes and dreams digitally. But I will reveal that, to most people, I am probably less conventional and more modern in my views on relationships, yes, that means, casual sex and a more technical view on things.
Though I may lie awake on my bed everyday thinking about how wonderful it is to find the woman of my dreams and settle down. That's probably not what I need right now, you know, you gotta access all the watermelons on sale before choosing the best one. You gotta survey the forest before you choose the best tree to build a tree house on...You gotta empty the oceans to be sure you have the fish you want. But enough with the symbolisms, perhaps all I want right now, is to just, survey the forest, and explore the oceans. Look for someone to have fun with. Which may explain why two of my favourite God-Mode songs are Bad by The Cab and Sweeter by Gavin Degraw (Step 1: Listen to them. Step 2: Who the hell cares! Nothing can stop you now!)
Did you notice the extremely high portion of the graph after a long time has passed? I'm 19 this year, that means that I still have 21 more years before I start falling in love with mannequins at UNIQLO just because they were kind enough to show people how clothes may look on them. Onwards.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
The hunt for the perfect woman
Many a times people find themselves staring blankly onto their ceilings, wondering, what will my life partner be? Is there, just one perfect person in the overpopulated world that is fantastically wonderful enough for me to spend the rest of my life with? Some find themselves as Barney Stinson or Ted Mosby; combing through entire populations, trying people out in relationships until they find the one. Others tend to settle into bambi phase, remaining innocent until they're sure they've found the one for them (as in the case of many.....many, Singaporeans). But then again, how sure can the bambis know if they've truly found the right one?
"Huh? Why is this kid acting like he's got life figured out?" Look, I'm 18, never had a girlfriend, never lived a life away from my parents for more than a week, I think I've got life figured out. Ok? Irrational and ludicrous as that was, this is just, how I think the concept of a one true love is.
From the mouth of a comforting friend to the devastated newly-dumped wreck, "There are many fishes in the sea in a planet of 7 billion, somewhere out there, there's the perfect woman for you but she isn't that bitch that dumped your ass." Well what if the perfect one for you is trapped in a baby factory in Nigeria or busy wondering if she will be in the next Transformers movie (Megan Fox please come back)? I guess it is truly comforting and enchanting to believe in the "perfect one" concept but if H2 Economics has taught me anything, it would be that imperfect information exists in the real world and humans, no matter how curious they are, are susceptible to the principal of adequacy. (No, economics doesn't teach the principal of adequacy, I just came up with that. Calm yo tits, you'll do fine for your A levels)
How does a TV work? It receives signal from a channel broadcaster and translate that signal information into pictures and sound shown on the screen. How does the channel broadcaster send signals? Via large antennas and satellites that are able to send radio waves over vast distances. Suddenly, the principal of adequacy kicks in, and we feel like we understand how TV's show Spongebob and Ben 10 to keep our brains thoroughly entertained. We don't go on and ask, how are the signals translated into motion picture and sound? How is electricity converted to power the TV? The same applies when deciding someone is your happily ever after. We feel satisfied enough to propose to someone, just because she understands you, you can't stop thinking about her, she offers great sex. But could your soul mate be in actuality, another person that not only fulfils the stated 3 criteria, but also, happily serves you a beer during dinner?
No one knows exactly, how to determine if someone is their soul mate or not. (Nope, not even Google, not even your Mom). Will she make me a better person? Can he support me and the family in the future? Can she cook? Are these even the criteria of a perfect mate? Am I asking too many questions? Does anyone even read rhetorical questions when they're stated like this? Many of these criteria can be easily tested while dating, or even stalking someone (for you dirty little fellows), but many more assessments, in my opinion cannot be tested until you pass a point of no return.
I guess, I would say I'm a Ted Mosby, vaguely dreaming of a perfect wife, not wanting to settle over anything less. But at the same time I believe in what I've said thus far. In my 18 years of life, 3 girls have really smitten me, anyone of them would seem like a perfect girl for me, but the life envisioned with them are as different as each one of them are. Not saying that they're my golden minnows in the sea of fishes (Feeding Frenzy is a fun game) but they definitely seemed adequate to my senses so far.
But it's 3am in the morning and 24 hours after a zombifying night of drinking, I feel my brain going numb and my ability to make sense drifting away with my hope of finding my ....Cinderella (I'm running out of terms to call the perfect woman) But if anything, I feel scared, scared that I won't be able to find her before I'm 40, and scared that the principal of adequacy sticks it up my ass leaving me with just a silver minnow till my death. I don't know which is worse. But until then, I'll be listing, listing my criteria like your mom when deciding what sofa to buy for the new year, after being sleep deprived for two days, on her period.... The list's probably meant for another post.
"Huh? Why is this kid acting like he's got life figured out?" Look, I'm 18, never had a girlfriend, never lived a life away from my parents for more than a week, I think I've got life figured out. Ok? Irrational and ludicrous as that was, this is just, how I think the concept of a one true love is.
From the mouth of a comforting friend to the devastated newly-dumped wreck, "There are many fishes in the sea in a planet of 7 billion, somewhere out there, there's the perfect woman for you but she isn't that bitch that dumped your ass." Well what if the perfect one for you is trapped in a baby factory in Nigeria or busy wondering if she will be in the next Transformers movie (Megan Fox please come back)? I guess it is truly comforting and enchanting to believe in the "perfect one" concept but if H2 Economics has taught me anything, it would be that imperfect information exists in the real world and humans, no matter how curious they are, are susceptible to the principal of adequacy. (No, economics doesn't teach the principal of adequacy, I just came up with that. Calm yo tits, you'll do fine for your A levels)
How does a TV work? It receives signal from a channel broadcaster and translate that signal information into pictures and sound shown on the screen. How does the channel broadcaster send signals? Via large antennas and satellites that are able to send radio waves over vast distances. Suddenly, the principal of adequacy kicks in, and we feel like we understand how TV's show Spongebob and Ben 10 to keep our brains thoroughly entertained. We don't go on and ask, how are the signals translated into motion picture and sound? How is electricity converted to power the TV? The same applies when deciding someone is your happily ever after. We feel satisfied enough to propose to someone, just because she understands you, you can't stop thinking about her, she offers great sex. But could your soul mate be in actuality, another person that not only fulfils the stated 3 criteria, but also, happily serves you a beer during dinner?
No one knows exactly, how to determine if someone is their soul mate or not. (Nope, not even Google, not even your Mom). Will she make me a better person? Can he support me and the family in the future? Can she cook? Are these even the criteria of a perfect mate? Am I asking too many questions? Does anyone even read rhetorical questions when they're stated like this? Many of these criteria can be easily tested while dating, or even stalking someone (for you dirty little fellows), but many more assessments, in my opinion cannot be tested until you pass a point of no return.
I guess, I would say I'm a Ted Mosby, vaguely dreaming of a perfect wife, not wanting to settle over anything less. But at the same time I believe in what I've said thus far. In my 18 years of life, 3 girls have really smitten me, anyone of them would seem like a perfect girl for me, but the life envisioned with them are as different as each one of them are. Not saying that they're my golden minnows in the sea of fishes (Feeding Frenzy is a fun game) but they definitely seemed adequate to my senses so far.
But it's 3am in the morning and 24 hours after a zombifying night of drinking, I feel my brain going numb and my ability to make sense drifting away with my hope of finding my ....Cinderella (I'm running out of terms to call the perfect woman) But if anything, I feel scared, scared that I won't be able to find her before I'm 40, and scared that the principal of adequacy sticks it up my ass leaving me with just a silver minnow till my death. I don't know which is worse. But until then, I'll be listing, listing my criteria like your mom when deciding what sofa to buy for the new year, after being sleep deprived for two days, on her period.... The list's probably meant for another post.
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