Professional
I am looking at my watch as I write this.
72 more hours.
72 more hours to the end of my Service (junior) term in OCS.
Some fellow friends familiar with Army talk may find the above statement anti-climatic.
" Not even commissioning why so f**king Emo? Chao *** ***!"
But I don't know why I am so perplexed over the last 72 hours of my first third of journey.
As of the moment, my mind isn't functioning in the usual systematic manner, rather, I see random flashes of thoughts, hopes, memories, doubts and anxiety. I therefore blog for cartharsis and not for projection.
0147hours, 150606. I am shacked from the last outfield exercise, Platoon Live Firing. I feel as though the mosquitoes have drained a standard half bottle of my bodily fluids. The Explosion of the Bangalore torpedo still lingers in my head. I am tired, I just want to get out of my muddy uniform, become clean and sleep.
I hear a commotion. Its the damn posting results. They're out. I run out and see infantry next to my name.
I give a tired smile to acknowledge it.
But people around me aren't all in the same mood. Most are happy. They are going out, leaving to Signals, Armour and Combat Engineers. But those who stay in infantry are not. They give me a confused look as if my expression is that of sarcasm. A Few others give me a high five and happily strut off to the showers in their underwears. I join that bunch and leave those in denial in the corridor.
I feel perplexed. Its coming again. The doldrum. I feel relieved and worried and the same time. I Feel as though everything is out of my control, as though my life in SAF has already been planned out. I am powerless. I dont want to be a mere useless political statement of minimal meritocracy. I want get out, get out get out. I want to eat nightsnacks and share a hot mug of milo with men under the moonlight. I want to stand-two with 27 friends in an intense but affirming silence. I want more. Don't send me to some crap job because I am worth less than the issue of security.
72 more hours.
72 more hours to the end of my Service (junior) term in OCS.
Some fellow friends familiar with Army talk may find the above statement anti-climatic.
" Not even commissioning why so f**king Emo? Chao *** ***!"
But I don't know why I am so perplexed over the last 72 hours of my first third of journey.
As of the moment, my mind isn't functioning in the usual systematic manner, rather, I see random flashes of thoughts, hopes, memories, doubts and anxiety. I therefore blog for cartharsis and not for projection.
0147hours, 150606. I am shacked from the last outfield exercise, Platoon Live Firing. I feel as though the mosquitoes have drained a standard half bottle of my bodily fluids. The Explosion of the Bangalore torpedo still lingers in my head. I am tired, I just want to get out of my muddy uniform, become clean and sleep.
I hear a commotion. Its the damn posting results. They're out. I run out and see infantry next to my name.
I give a tired smile to acknowledge it.
But people around me aren't all in the same mood. Most are happy. They are going out, leaving to Signals, Armour and Combat Engineers. But those who stay in infantry are not. They give me a confused look as if my expression is that of sarcasm. A Few others give me a high five and happily strut off to the showers in their underwears. I join that bunch and leave those in denial in the corridor.
I feel perplexed. Its coming again. The doldrum. I feel relieved and worried and the same time. I Feel as though everything is out of my control, as though my life in SAF has already been planned out. I am powerless. I dont want to be a mere useless political statement of minimal meritocracy. I want get out, get out get out. I want to eat nightsnacks and share a hot mug of milo with men under the moonlight. I want to stand-two with 27 friends in an intense but affirming silence. I want more. Don't send me to some crap job because I am worth less than the issue of security.
posted by F I S at
9:57 am
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