Not In The People.

I am afraid that I may have begun to accept that life was not as I had imagined-a many wondered splendour. It is, a collection of an enormous variety of personalities without any discernible point in their being.

Eventually most of these personalities will grow up to become selfish creatures each and everyone of them on course to hell. I mean, look at all the selfish and stupid people that we turn out into. What good are people who kill each and other and are selfish enough to seek betterment at the expense of other brethren. If we should all drop dead and die, very seriously speaking the world would be a better place. We'd stop destroying this earth and benefits loads of other living creatures.

I mean, the only good I think a person can be for is indulging vanity by creating legacies in the hope that the person will be remembered and celebrated-more often than not through procreation. Even that, isn't too appealing a prospect.

Ugh. More people who may potentially fuck up the world even more?

No thanks, I'll pass.

Mooncake Madness!

Rows and rows of homemade purple unhealthy goodness! That's excluding what's being stored in the fridge.

Mad!

Best Enjoyed With A Diminished Mental Faculty.

I'm going to name my daughter Nikki, because she's going to grow up hot and loose and all the boys will want her.

I wrote that down, whilst being kicked by a drunk out cold enjoying the stone floor whom I was caring for. I remember that at that point of time, between the mostly unconscious body beside me, the vomit that reeked of nothing but alcohol and that girl named Nikki I became extremely determined to have a daughter who was like that.

Ah, well. Kids.

The Longest Day.

It seems like guard duty is designed to drag the minutes in all 1440 of the day as much as humanly possible. Extremely banal tasks that make time crawl even slower than a turtle in a race to determine the slowest turtle of all time really wears down a persons' mental state.

I just got back from the longest twenty four hours of my life and I feel like I've aged twenty years.


Goodness gracious. Help me!

Army Boys Are.

Girls are made to have sex with and any girl you're in contact with is either a fling/girlfriend, and dear god platonic relationships are not allowed.

The people are usually stupid and lazy and not without reason. I mean, you can be stupid if it isn't any fault of yours. However being lazy and unmotivated and as a result stupid isn't an excuse.

I don't know. People are so fucking petty and selfish that it's amazing that anything gets done at all. It's also a wonder that most of these fuckers who are getting me down have absolutely no idea what life after the army holds for them. Apart from talk about 'probably studying' and absolutely having no idea or being severely unqualified to further their studies anywhere that has been deemed prestigious enough for them to dream about. I mean, being picky about where you want to study when you're unqualified to further your education beyond your vocational certificate qualifications. Seriously?

The real irony is, that these people are the very same fuckers who whine and complain about being in the relative comfort of the army, where they can continue to be such underachieving wastes of oxygen. It only makes senses that these people are really dumb as fuck and should be gassed to death in a chamber somwhere in a remote corner of the island.

Ugh. I need to clear my head and drown myself in some happy thoughts.

In a rut.

Have been for the past two weeks, and it doesn't show seem like it's going away. Be back soon.

Inglourious Basterds is Fucking Awesome-ness. Watch it, if you haven't already.

Desperation.

20/09/09 Steve Aoki+Diplo@Zouk. Any want going/want to go?

PATRICK SWAYZE IS DEAD.

When I received the sms notification, my heart sunk and was overwhelmed with immeasurable sadness. Have you watched his 'The Beast'? The man was fantastic, even to the very end.

Calf; Rear Left. Twenty Bites.

Okay, you can't really see it because of the lousy camera, but take my word for it. The fucking mosquitoes bit through my uniform to cause IMMENSE PAIN.

So yes, I'm a sucker for pain.

In Summary.

I have at least twenty mosquito bites on my left calf. My body has been completely ravaged by mosquitoes, despite having induced minor chemical burns all over exposed skin in a futile effort to repel said mosquitoes. Don't get me wrong though, I still love going out in the field. The wilderness of Singapore is still plenty delightful and, I've seen a side of Singapore that's not all concrete which not many of you will get to see.

Like Tinkerbell

It's only after spending an entire day in the company of people whom I love that I've realised that my sensitivities to the subtleties of emotion. It's kinda of like a horrible comedy sketch gone wrong, where a fat man dressed up in a tutu and attempts to waltz through a rainy street like Gene Kelly in singing in the rain, except Gene Kelly is fat, has no control over his psycho motor and is inebriated ON CRACK COCAINE.

I think I just bumble through interacting with people whom I feel positive about, because I feel too damn comfortable to exercise restraint in my behaviour. Which isn't good. There's a lot of weird shit happening beneath this calculated facade and like the Bruce Banner transforming into the Hulk, it's not pretty. It's a great big bumbling beast which needs a good dose of drugs NOW.

FAIL.

Tonight brings another score to compound to the mass of epic failures. Isn't it fabulous, when most of what happens occurs as a result of a particular effective branch of Murphy's law which works tirelessly to create opposite outcomes out of whatever intention (or lack of) there might have been. By that logic I should not endeavour to accomplish anything because most (and I'm using that term because I cannot be sure that the term all would hold true) of whatever positive accomplishment I can attribute to my self has been borne out of not trying and a deep focus on being as anti social possible. Because things usually end up pear shaped when I attempt things and I am usually left to ponder on the futility of having bothered at all.

Which leaves me with the conclusion that I should be lazy as fuck and just wait for things to happen, because things usually turn out much better that way. Which, I think, my character will not allow. Because I would like to think that I am the sort of person who needs to be out there doing something and not sit around and wait for a pay out. Which leads me to think that the safest thing I could be doing not to offend people or fuck up is to bludgeon some homeless sap without kin to death whenever boredom or whatever feeling strikes that give rise to an incredible urge to be out there doing something. Which would be bad, because I don't think I'm quite insane enough to escape wrath of the long arm of justice when caught for beating the cap out of some random asshole.

Thus, I am back where I began before this long rambly post began, non the wiser. I mean, I am slightly wiser just that the wisdom may not apply when judgement and good taste come into play. Which renders said wisdom redundant and leaves only this introspection as a (hopefully) source of amusement to you dear reader, because eliciting a smile would be the least this could do.

I really shouldn't try to make things happen, like attempting to force wisdom from a 375 word rant. It just doesn't work like that.

Sticky Sweet.

Which is the kind of excess and the loss of sense of propriety or moral compass or whatever you may like to call it, that I would love to have myself waist deep in. However, I am encumbered by the fact that I have now grown so timid of social interactions that I may never find myself near anything close to what the video depicts.

I also need to remember her name. It's crazy because I can remember how she speaks Chinese even though she isn't, what her colleagues called her, how un-ethnic she looked, what school she's studying at, and that her last day is on the 18th while my appointment is on the 30th 'just to let you know that I won't be here anymore' among a million other little details. Yet, for the life of me I can't remember her name despite having stared at her name tag many times over.