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Further out he could see the silhouette of the city, first the UOB building and then the Singapore Flyer, sparkling out and standing firm against the cool breeze of the night. He thought of how the world would start in another couple of hours and how serene it looks right now. Nick took another look at his watch, it says a little past two. The party was in all the rage in the room right now and the door could barely contained the noise of fun and loving.

“Why are you here?” Nick wondered to himself.

He had found himself wanting the toilet but found it locked, passion emanating within, and embarrassed by his intrusion had muttered a soft apology which he doubt would reach the ears of anyone and instead went over to the balcony for a smoke. Nick recalled that it was Cherie party and this was her apartment. Speaking of which, he realised that she was not seen since he arrived at the party a little while back.

The wind was making his affair a quick one, and as the embers of his cigarette died out Nick contemplate between taking out another one or making his way back into the party. He decided with the latter, and with that succumbed to his mischievous impulse of flicking the butt of the cigarette out and where the wind may carry.

Nick then return back to the party.

His first reaction was how packed the room itself was. There were maybe 10, 15 people and most were huddled close in the middle, swaying with the music. The rest were around the corners of the room on square beanbag sofas, either making out, passed out, or trying to chat under the music.

A few girls had came up to Nick after his horseplay with his baseball jacket and one of them had borrowed it. He scanned around the room and saw her dancing, but did not felt compelled to approach her to take it back. Nick thought that she was a little too aggressive. The trouble with parties like this was that there were only two ways to get out of it, dead drunk or dead sober. Nick knew that if he start he would no doubt enjoy himself, being the state he was in he could do with a little easing up. He abstained from alcohol because he was looking for an opportunity to talk to her.

She was Nick’s perfect stranger in this cold night, and he wanted her.

———————————————

Sitting at the corner of the room and sipping soda, the night has been outright boring for her. Granted that even though there was everything required out of a party, drinks, finger food, blaring music, and lots of cute guys, it was still in the early hours of the evening and the atmosphere seems to be more on an awkward level, the hour where people wear their most polite faces and mingle in the crowd with small talk and whispers. That would have summed up her entire night.

He came in at a little bit before midnight. By then the crowd had already began to liven up, there were the occasional sporadic burst of cheers and laughter from somewhere in the room, before being absorb back into the deafening roar of music. Cherie, the birthday girl, was leading him into the room by putting her hands around his arm, the same way a girl would do when she brought a guy home to introduce to her parents, except that he was not hers. A couple of guys came up from the crowd and slapped him on the back, commenting on how all latecomers would have to drink extra. Already she was writing him off as just another guy in the party when what he did next really caught her attention.

He was trying to take off his baseball jacket, unaware that the zipper at the edge had latched onto each other. His arms were already at the back and he was unable to tug at it further when he notice the point that brought all the strain. He looked at it with his half cocked eyebrow, a feature which she would so love in time to come. She also thought he look kinda cute and quirky in that half arm locked position. The crowd apparently thought the same thing as well. All the attention was now on the new addition in the room.

“A little help please?” he mumbled after awhile to some laughters, as if trying to break the deadlock both physically and atmospheric wise.

“I’m serious!” to more laughters.

Cherie, giggling hard and with her face flushed from colour, came up and tried to unzip the latch for him. She thought Cherie did a poor and fumbling job out of it, not helped by the fact that he teased Cherie on, making some comment which sounded like, “be careful of the gun”.

The jacket came off, and she gasped as there really was a gun sitting with half its barrel tucked in his jeans, just beside the suspender. He took it out, pulled at it, and pointed at Cherie in between her eyes and slightly above the forehead. Cherie had stopped laughing. Then he pointed it at the ceiling and what sounded like a spring being released from its tension sprang forth, together with a plastic pellet ricocheting off the ceiling.

“Hah, hah. Gotcha!” the tension in the air broke and the crowd went crazy. So did Cherie. And for the first time since she arrived at the party, she cracked up as well.

And that was the last time she would smile, for she thought he’d never notice her. After all, she’s seen how a few girls had came up to him, and how he had brushed them away.

If only she had known that he had brushed them away because he had saw the way she was laughing at him and his antics when he came into the room, and how he thought that was the most lovely and charming thing he saw that night.

————————————-

Show me a man or a woman alone and I’ll show you a saint. Give me two and they’ll fall in love. Give me three and they’ll invent the charming thing we call ‘society’. Give me four and they’ll build a pyramid. Give me five and they’ll make one an outcast. Give me six and they’ll reinvent prejudice. Give me seven and in seven years they’ll reinvent warfare. Man may have been made in the image of God, but human society was made in the image of His opposite number, and is always trying to get back home.

- Stephen King

Green. Good to go. I roll on the throttle as I savour her initial roar as it engulfs around me. I’ve always enjoyed the sensation, a hungry burst of fire unleashed from an excess of idling. The growling gets louder and I need to contain it. I roll off the throttle, pull in the clutch, and kick up the gear. Steady as she goes again. The euphonic humming indicates her sweet spot while I watch the meter goes. So far so good.

Then he came.

First, a small speck of flicker. Nothing to worry about. I pay no attention and continue with my routine. A fleet moment passes and it grows into a coruscate blaze. Like a lion stalking his prey he gains no further. I can barely see that silhouette of him. Yet his frame betrays his intention.

Big boy wants to play.

My grip on the throttle widens and like a sleeping ancient beast awaken by an intruding disbeliever she howls to life, very annoyed. I’m taken aback by the sudden rush of power as I struggle to control her. Man, it’s been a long time since I did this. The vibration gets heavier and resistance hack through me, reminding me of my mere mortality even though its greed for higher power blinds me. I tame her after three lamp posts. I glance back and to my surprise he’s still behind me. Damn, he’s fast. I could almost see something of a smirk through the dark of the night. Or maybe I’m imagining it. His visor is down and he’s clad in black.

At least he’s got some fashion sense. I make out a glowing eye instead of two through my mirrors. One headlamp. He’s a Kawasaki KRR150 rider. KRR. The nemesis of SP. My nemesis. Maybe that explains the hostility. Guess I won’t be making a new friend around here.

I knew the next stretch very well. Heck, I use this road all the time. Few placements of traffic lights, wide lanes and most importantly, a low volume of users. This is my territory. You don’t mess with me around here. There would be a hairpin bend ahead due to construction work along the road shoulder. The trap is set.

I slung a submissive posture, slow down and watch him pass by. I could see a redbull sticker across his lower plate of fairing. Very nice. He smells victory. I think otherwise.

He sees it. What he did next was something I wasn’t expecting. He executed a perfect corner of the hairpin bend. No flashes of brake lights. He went in with just his engine brake. He was mocking the ground inability to graze an immortal with his legs hanging just slightly off the gravel. And then he disappears across the foliage, leaving a wake of dust and smoke and a triumphant roar of victory. It fades away soon enough leaving me with the tranquil of the night again, like an old friend trying to console me.

Wow.

No doubt I was disappointed, but I was grinning face to face from that experience. He did more wonders than I could imagine, with his steed.

I’ve finally met a true racer.

spi·ral (sprl)
adj.
 - Coiling or developing around an axis in a constantly changing series of planes
 - Circling around a center at a continuously increasing or decreasing distance.

It’s a hard life we lead out there..

Or what if another starts a mini k-pop karaoke and the rest starts singing along? And the problem is you don’t listen to K-pop and you have no idea what the fuck they are singing, but you just join in and start rambling nonsense so that you don’t feel left out?

How about having your 3 days old toilet paper returned to you after making a trip around the world in 2 hours (everyone likes to shit before outfield), being passed on, until you have no idea whether the last guy used it to wipe his ass or whether he sat and crapped on the toilet paper itself, because it came back flattened and even he could not explain why?

Or maybe the most important point to note is that you should be wary of the smallest guy in your section, because mine makes the loudest noise when he’s asleep. That small little fellow sure can snore. Or maybe he was learning to growl like a dragon. I don’t know. I couldn’t tell. We had to throw something at his bed to nudge him up abit so that he’d snap out of the Inception styled adventure he was having there.

If you are in(or out of) army, you can probably relate to me. After all, there’s always the snorlax and the jigglypuff in every section of 16 men. If you are not in army(or never will be), good for you. You don’t have to sleep with 15 other equally desperate guys, whose only options are turning gay or using their right hand from Monday to Friday until they book out. The second comes with a charge of Detention Barracks(military jail) so it’s an extra zest for the risk lovers.

And I think I’ve been playing with fire for awhile now. Don’t let your mind wander, my right hand is only for eating during weekdays(and occasionally throwing a punch or two to jokers). It’s just that I’ve been close to getting caught for the indiscipline that’s acting up on me. In fact, I’ve already bagged 6 confinements, 2 guard duty since BMT. My buddy had 5 confinements and 1 guard duty. We were the record holders for the highest number of confinement on Tekong shared between bed buddies and I’m proud we’ve both made it to command school now training to be leaders. Talk about quality leaders.

Still, my personality is getting me into hot shit. Like questioning and arguing with the sergeant why I can’t eat curry puff at the firing range. Pretty stupid right? Sometimes in the heat of the moment I tend to lose my rationale, especially since I never liked the Army system. I dislike authority. It’s too restricting and suffocating. Anyway that got me guard duty during Chinese New Year so while others out there can suffocate themselves with their angpao money I got a day off leisuring around the beautiful camp premises of Pasir Laba, guarding our camp from aliens and giant killer bee attacks.

Still, all this punishments are like a message- Welcome to Army. Where many questions are left unanswered and the cleanest part of your body is your thumb, because everyone will be asking you to suck it. Got your weekend burnt? Suck thumb lo.

Army however, is a learning opportunity. I won’t deny that. There’s alot of useful stuffs taught here and you can meet a wide diversity of people that comes from different races and background. And because we spent so much time together we pretty much go through every thing. Some guy shows up without shaving or talking for the next few days and you know that loser just been dumped. A little extra tender care for the week and you can resume the regime of beating him up after that.

There’s also others who’s very strong and is able to draw out emotional sustenance through his surroundings without having to be in love. I sadly, do not belong in that category. The blues of waking up in the morning missing somebody is a miserable position to be in.

Missing your loved ones aside, when the tough times come that’s where paradise ends. Especially outfield, which is a real bitch up the ass. Even the facilities in bunk seems like a distant luxury whenever we go outfield. You are covered in mud, you can’t bathe, you have to put on camouflage cream, dig your shellscrape(aka coffin), lack of sleep(8 hours out of 60), but the real thing that makes outfield tormenting is the nitty gritty little stuffs that’s being implemented. Outfield discipline and standards is unlike that in camp.

High kneel position if you are not doing anything,  one weekend burnt if the rifle is not on you, no lights to be used at night when you can’t even see beyond your arms, no field cooking unless permitted, being randomly asked to fall in at midnight, body vest and helmet on when moving around, and the fear of doing the Immediate Action Drills. It’s basically a drill to test your reaction to fake enemy fire, and sergeants always like to do it when everyone is shagged out. The two most dreaded ones are the Sniper contacted drill and the Artillery contacted drill. There’s a “casualty” for the first one and the group have to carry him and run, while the second involves running all the way back to base camp.

Like they always say- Tough times don’t last, tough men does!

It’s not just being tough, joking through the pain is another way of sweetening it. Especially with the lads in my section, it’s just so much fun to sit there and do nothing. I remembered this time where we were supposed to brush up on our section battle drills but we got so tired that we ended up sitting there rooted to the ground while we talked about what we’d do if we were the Chief of Army. Of course we’d all agree that as C.O.A the first course of action to do is to abolish the army and replace it with boy scouts, but from then on we were all divided – some wanted KFC at the cookhouse, some wanted NS to be compulsory for females (only those below 65kg) and to put them in the same bunk, others wanted air condition bunks. As for me? I think my demands are rather reasonable. I want my breakfast served to me on bed while I check my Facebook. Less sugar for my coffee please.

I wonder what will happen if we wrote all our opinions on a piece of paper and send it to Chief of Army office. Maybe we would get a medal for our contributions to revamping the Army. Who knows?

The sad part now is that we are all moving on to the next phase of our army life. Our foundation term has just ended, and while some are still staying on in infantry, others have been posted to different vocations like signals, artillery, tanks, military police. My buddy is going to Recce, while I’m posted to Engineer Training Institute.

This is the part where I extend my emotions and say I’m really gonna miss them. Especially my buddy, who’s got so many flaws. I don’t think that asshole reads my blog anyway, in fact I think he’s even having trouble reading his phone bill,  so I’m gonna flame him all I want. Thanks for always hogging the toilet, always blasting loud music without the consideration of others, sleep talking while I wake up to go to the loo and always getting us into trouble. Oh and I still got your socks even though I said that I returned it to you, so you are never gonna find out for the rest of your life where it went to.

Despite all the misgivings, Army so far has been an enjoyable experience. The funny thing is, you won’t like it when you are doing it. At that present moment the world out there seems so much better, the nightscene, the latest movies, everything that you can’t do. It’s when you look back that you realise how much the journey and the memories mean to you.

Now that I’m done reminiscing about the past-

Explosive Ordnance Disposal, here I come!