i don’t know.
either it’s the weather or just the horoscope that’s affecting people. or august - september are just, bad months.

living life in the island resort has somehow make me feel disconnected to the mainland. I know, there’s telecommunication devices called mobile phones, but it’s different talking face to face over a cuppa than just hearing voices coming out from a piece of non-living thing.

things changes, people progresses, we go our separate career/ education paths and life continues.

they always say that it’s hard to last with your special someone when you got drafted. and i see the reason why. it has got to do with emotional attachment. it’s just, unexplainable. you just can’t get your overwhelming emotions affect your life in there.

whatever.

it’s just a bad bad time of the year. relationships broken, problems rising and miscommunication aplenty resulting to misinterpretations.

after a routine round of mundane weekday, I just wana retreat home to seek solace; to break away from the monotony of island life. problems aside, the company of close friends; that’s all that matters.

but the saddest thing, i only have the Saturday to share with different groups of friends. and Sunday is reserved for me to be at home with the family.

two weeks later and the rest of the other companies are passing out. we will still be at the island. Fourteen more weeks to passing out. at leat 20kilos more to reach my desired weight.

let December come early please.

To all boys entering the island resort this coming September, remember these essential things; things you learn to appreciate for their existence in this world. Hah.

1. Prickly Heat Powder.
2. Underwears and not boxers, cuz you don’t wana overheat your balls while doing vigorous activities.
3. Hangers and pegs.
4. Ziploc bags.
5. Strepsils or cough syrups. If you’re lucky enough to not get the island’s cough. Hah.

Alright, this is all random. I’m bored. Prolly while you’re reading this, this post is timestamped and Im already on the island basking myself in the scorching heat, losing my flabs. Heh.

and im prolly stoned on sheesha. heh.

Just one word; BOSAN.
Boring. Bored. Mundane. Just past the 2month mark, 2-third more to go and we’re feeling it. Other companies practicing their pop cheers whatsoever and we’re around them doing our physical trainings. Our passing out is still far from sight, December tenth to be precise.

My blog has turned into my weekly entry of ranting and complaining. You can see that.

My weekends are the most precious. It’s something I look forward to, like duh.

It’s the time I get to be free, living my civilian life and noone to control me from smoking or wandering around. 15 more weekends to passing out. What a bummer. Fine I shall think of happy thots. Hah.

I’ve gotten my photo with my section mates. The ones we took (and forced to pay thirteen buckeroos for that) during our third week in the island resort. I shall not reveal it to u now but all i can say is “Oh holey macaroons!”. Heh. I shall do it in December wen i’ve gotten the next update of our photos. LOL. I shall put it up in Friendster and facebook. You know how it works like; it’s like those Marie France bodyline advertorials. The before and after pictures of yours truly. Haha.

Looking at a lighter side, hey aint it all worthwhile?
You get paid to lose those flabs.
You have weekday accommodation provided to you.
Meals are all on them.
And all they take from you; your freedom.

Current weight loss: ten kilos.
Ideal weight loss on POP: thirty kilos.
A mission almost possible. hopefully. hah.

And then after that it’s all about choices. Whether I’ve the discipline to keep it that way or poof! back to ole self. Heh.

totally.

4 more freaking months, to go. Alot of high key activities happening during fasting month. They somehow hinting us that it is not advisable to fast due to the vigorous activities. Alot of guard duties next month which means our weekend might be at stake. And weekends would be the only time when we could break fast together with the family.

It finally dawned upon me that fasting month is coming up real soon. I held back my tears when csm talked about it. Kinda emotional cuz somehow, I started visualising the idea of me going back home before dusk ready to break fast together with the family everyday. And then I imagined my absence on weekdays at that dining table when its time to break fast. It just feels so, empty. It’s like you used to take things for granted and then now reality hits you hard; they are your family, the ones you come home to every weekend.

Gawd it feels overwhelming.

Then comes the news that fieldcamp would be a week after hari raya. A week staying in the jungle with no form of communication with the family. When people are going house to house for hari raya visits.

Why oh why.

thanks for the tons of birthday wishes. =)
thanks beloved sister for having ur engagement ceremony on national day which means i cant go out on my birthday. thanks eh. =)
thanks platoon mates for singing the birthday song the last thing before booking out. =)
thanks faddy and nassy for helping me out yesterday. =)
thanks mom and dad for letting me out last night. it compromising and accommodating; i stay home on my bday, and i go out the next day. ahah. =)
thanks dave clar jask aihui rach leonard and sel for the night out last night. bad terrible hangover after that. =)
and thank you you for making me smile again. =)

So last night was another round of meetup with the usual bunch. Had Japanese for dinner at this restaurant at Cuppage tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the city life. The rest wanted to grab desserts at Canele but it’s a Saturday night and Canele’s restaurants are still hot and new. We decided not to waste our time waiting and head to Clarke Quay to Mama’s.

And so we shared stories, funny and serious then on to ghost stories since its hungry ghost month anyway. I think we got goosebumps everytime a story was told. Then some bugger thought up of something totally random and spontaneous; that is to ride the G Swing. I was like, fuck seriously? Hesitated initially but what the heck, add some spice to your boring life, Hakim.

So us five took up the challenge, with Clar taking both the G Max (with her colleagues) and the G Swing (with us), and Crystal not taking part cuz of weak heart. Heh. Before we knew it, we were in the capsule, being secured just by the harness. There wasn’t any handle that i could hold on to so I grabbed the sides of my seat. We got higher and higher and higher and it seems neverending can.. We were like finally up and Lenard was like “Could you just push the lever already??”. I took a deeeeeep breath, reached the lever and gave it a light puuuushhh and “clank!”.

It was like omg omg omg can. It’s like you wana scream but your heart’s in your mouth, your balls’ shrinking and you feel like you’ve got no control over your body. Haha. We were like shouting all the way.. There was like lots of “Fuck, oh fuck, fuck fuckkk”, “I wana go homeee”, “My balls’ shrinking”, and “I love Singaporeeee”. Haha.

What a weekend. Till next week, ciao loves.

It’s refreshing to get back to my room, breathing in the fresh scent of Air Wick’s freshener. I have this thing with air fresheners/ aromatherapy candles filling up the spaces in my bedroom, especially those ocean breeze type. It just makes me, happy. Haha. And then I would just stare at my wall of inspirations and admire my works and others. Thick skin but there’s nothing more than a great sense of satisfaction upon seeing your own works right. Plus a two-metre long pop art pull up banner is standing at the corner of my room; bringing back memories of the Lollipop! party.

NDP 08’s nearing. Those noisy jetplanes love flying over tekong. Made me miss NDP 07. And like coincidental enuff, was clearing up my shelves just now in the morning and chanced upon an untitled DVD. Popped it in and there it was, the footages we shot for last year’s NDP. Suddenly all those good ole memories came rushing in. The times we got sick of eating KFC, got introduced to NS food (apparently baked beans are like a staple, I don’t know why), getting tanned every Saturdays, while getting all the correct shots control room people wanted. It’s really a different feeling to be part of a joyous occasion rather than just, watching them.

Then it made me remember my birthday. And as if it’s a domino effect, it vividly reminds me of the ups and lows during that period. Like what a cheebei.

I love my life. Hah.

Was having one of those free time in the bunk the other day and looking at my weight monitoring chart. (By now, you should know that I’m in a company that will see two batches of ordinary bmt recruits pop-ing, to put it simply, im in that island for 26 weeks.) Yes, we have weight monitoring charts, we are banned from eating junk food in the bunk and we have a bra strap that monitors our heart rate.

Then I counted my BMI, got a wee bit shocked, and then stared at the chart.

For me to get back to a healthy BMI range, I need to lose at least 1.3kg each week before my pop. I tink I’ve lost abt 8kilos since i got enlisted. never mind aunties and uncles who joked around telling me that there’s no difference in me. What, they think I just went for liposuction? Goodness gracious.

On another note, I think my savings’ depleting. And I think reality slaps me again and again telling me that I’m now earning less than 400 buck a month and not in 4-figure sum anymore.

ciao.

and as days grow older, i felt numb.

often the times, i stoned, dazed and stared into blanks.

i have friends who’re there to occupy my weekends, a family a home and my own room to return to, yet there’s this empty space somewhere in me that’s missing.

i need a crazy weekend to revert to the hak i used to know. im living 2 decades old soon. and dearest sister have to get engaged on the national day, meaning i’ve to be at home on my day to help out in the preparations.

you know what would be a pleasant gift?
to retrieve that last piece of puzzle that’s missing.

sundays make me emo.

I feel totally detached to the online world already. Blogging is no longer a daily routine. Instead, meeting up with friends every book out seems more of a priority. It feels more, intimate. And you’re engaging in a conversation, instead of being a storyteller.

The Saturday afternoon was spent with the Totots. We go wayyy back in secondary school when us plus few others travel to Bukit Panjang Govt High every Monday and Wednesday for our Higher Malay classes after school. Can’t forget the instant food lunches at 7-11 before classes and just crapping and enjoying in the class.

Four years later, we’re still wacky as ever; but each moving on to our respective paths. It was a refreshing meetup at Haji Lane for a sheesha session. Bumming around, catching up with each others’ lives and as usual, they’ve gone pro in camwhoring. And it still amuses me. Hah.

Caught up with the bitches again, fetching me from Bugis. Wanted to watch Dark Knight, but seats were selling out.

Had tea at Mr Beans at Selegie, then went on to catch Hancock.

Though tiring, meeting up with them is definitely a fresh air from the normal routine of waking up at 5am and sleeping at 10..

I’m usually on a diet of smoked salmon salad wherever applicable now. Not that I’m really conscious now, to say the truth. Just that the thought of gaining weight, and then having to be confined for another day in tekong, freaks me out. I do want my civilian life during the weekend. Heh.

On another note; dejected. Well I tried but I just cant get you outta my head. And I’m sorry.