The Kill
what if i wanted to break
laugh it all off in your face
what would you do?
what if i fell to the floor
couldn't take all this anymore
what would you do?
i tried to be someone else
but nothing seemed to change
i know now, this is who i really am inside
falling from myself
falling for a chance
i know now, this is who i really am
kill
break me down
bury me, bury me
i am finished with you
look in my eyes
you're killing me, killing me
all I wanted was you
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
-1:09 AM
Epitaph reads:
CPL Marcus Lin Zhongshan (7th June 2004 - 8th August 2006)
3 SIG BN S3 Branch Multimedia
He served the nation to the best of his abilities even though he didn't like it.
May he forever Rest in Peace.
Listening to: Cheap Trick - Mighty Wings
this is the beginning of an end. another fullstop in another chapter of my life. i've penned down the last words written in blood, sweat and tears. there will be nothing more, and i know i'm leaving army for good. a little column will be added to my name in the neverending list of people that will be leaving the army, sooner or later. 2 letters - (NS). and that will be the end of it.
although i can say this now, but when i look back it seemed like eternity. yes, like everyone else, i look back and say: it seemed like yesterday when i entered army. it seemed like yesterday when 'she' broke my heart and left me for another. it seemed like yesterday when i cut my arms and left them bleeding against a cold concrete floor while i howled and balled my eyes out. yes, that is the only thing i remembered from tekong. that little island where 'boys become dogs, and then become men again'. and into the ebony darkness of the night, i screamed out: 'when is this gonna end?' of course, now it seemed easy to look back and laugh, but still i know. i know how bad it was. i remember. and that part will always be locked away... ...in memories.
i remember, when i entered jurong camp. i remember what i saw in jurong camp. what my bleeding eyes saw, through glasses held together by thick, black frames. when i was almost bald, draped in stinking army no. 4, standing in the hot sun. i remember the endless nights of duties, where i'd stand by the smoking corner and watch the fires burn bright from jurong island, remembering that we both stood side by side in each other's arms watching the exact same flames. i remembered how those memories tortured me. and i remember how much i had to keep to myself, to maintain a certain composure in order to complete the tasks at hand before my head was on the guillotine. i remember that dirty look many gave me when i first entered, bald as the day i was born, thrown into the deep end of the pool, forced to crawl my way back from this shit hole that never seemed to end. and sure as hell i remember the days where i spent staring into the sun when i ran the endless roads. those forced-jogs, apparently for our own benefit. and finally, t-shirt sweat-stained to the finest threads, i had to get back to work with eyes that watched my every single movement.
i remember, how much i had to fight to get to somewhere important. how much forced smiles, how much fake laughter, how much favours i had to perform. just to get recognition. just to be noticed, and then finally... to be protected. because why? i could deliver. no, pardon me. i was the ONLY one who could deliver and not complain. i always did it with a smile. expecting nothing in return, only words of hurtful criticisms. oh yes... those memories. how they serve me well.
i guess at the end of it all, at the very heart of it, army is a rite of passage for all singaporean males. and yes, i guess i can say i learned something from it. something that is actually of help. and i gained many other things as well. i honed my skills to a point where i could work under pressure, i could smile while dealing with the most unreasonable of anyone i know. i sharpened my knife so well till i could smile yet kill so swiftly to a point where the victim would die willingly. is that the past? of course it is. but these skills, and many others will follow me to my deathbed. and perhaps someday, i'd make good of these skills.
have i changed? indeed i have. 2 years and 2 months ago, i was a kid with orange hair that was loony as hell, and with hormones comparable to that of a dog. i did things without thinking of the future. i spent my money like there was no tomorrow. i did things without purpose. without a goal. everything was just about having fun. of course, sometimes you'd know what to do, but why you're doing it? i guess i didn't know. i had no fucking clue. sometimes, i'd look back and regret. why.. why did i even commit such a atrocious mistake? or rather.. mistakes? perhaps it was all about growing up. all about life, molding you and shaping you into the person you'd want to be. and i guess regret as i will, i'd have to thank 'her' for actually leaving me, and it was because of that very reason that i decided to pick myself up again and once again, here i am, at it again. right back into the game. my life, my family, my career, my bank statements, my dream car soon to come.. etc. they all seem well, and for once i dare say.. i am happy. i can look back on all that i did and smile. sure, my love life is a void, but that's something i can live without.
now, i can say that i'm living life with a purpose. i know my end target. my goal. and nothing can fucking stop me now.
hello world, you have one more player.
"In The Year Of The Wolf, all the world smelled good... When I ran with the wolves, and the hunting was good... Body and soul on fire. In the cold, full moon. Blood, red, desire. It was the wolf in me. You know it felt so true. The night I ran with the wolves. Tonight I come for you. See me now, I was another. Mean and vicious, fast and clever... See me now, this is not me. Not like the one, I used to be. See me now, you would not guess. A different heart raving in my chest..." - Motorhead, In the Year of the Wolf
