The Final Act, The Curtain Closing and The Lingering Wave

Finally, finally, finally...



It seems like I'm walking out of a mist, and now into the clear. Where I used to languish in hopeless wandering, the path is set, as if gravel, cement and stone piled themselves magically before me, bidding me forward unto a future I can tangibly grasp.



As it is now, the memories are fresh. The picture of me, deep in apprehension, hunching towards the parade square after goodbyes to my loved ones, is fresh indeed. Like a painting immortalized, I see me digging amongst endless heaps of soil, all soggy and wet from the unrelenting rain, praying at the same time to God for release.



I see me staring quizzically at the screen which instructed me where to go: SISPEC. And now, I play the memory of me, filled with the experience and training, marching through the distances, battling the demons within me. And the all-too-familiar hunch I'd adopt, as I'd grudgingly make my way, with weight in tow, to Charlie company. But deeply imprinted in me, were the kind approval and pride my family and friends had, as they strode up to me to fix my rank unto my arms.



Then came a time of newness, a time of great learning. A difficult time indeed. Dare I say, more than any other experience in my army life. I cringe at the moments of persecution, of unrest. I sigh whenever I replay that moment in my head, where my tongue moved faster than my mind, where labels were almost literally branded upon me.



Yes, these are all past. In an environment different from any other I have experienced, I have come through, and I hope for myself, I have been bettered.



Though, the cynical self seem to speak louder, as he has always done. He judges me and tells me how readily I've fallen, how easily I am swayed. In this place so seemingly of any spirituality, I have abandoned my beliefs. I had thought, by not caring, were making moral choices so much easier. Yet I know in me this cannot be. For a man of God must strive, he must persevere. In his time of testing, he must trust in the Holy One. Yet the contrary is what I've done and, with my human thought and perception, I struggle wondering if God can ever forgive me.



My sins are numerous. I have slandered, lied, hated, lusted, lazed... They are endless. Has Jesus died for every one of these sins?



God forgive sins. He has sent his son Jesus Christ to die. With his death, our sins are paid for: past, present and future. I believe in a God full of compassion and mercy. I believe also in a God who angers and punishes. I have no defense, only guilt and sin.



Yet he forgives. For His love endures forever.



It is hard to make sense of the senseless, as it has been for the past 2 years. The SAF is a unique organization indeed, where rank means power. There is no questioning, no doubting the orders given by a person of superior rank. True, in wartime, soldiers cannot afford to slow orders by questioning their leaders' judgement. Yet, we are in peacetime, and often, alot of things, alot of orders, alot of practices put into place, alot of punishment hardly make sense.

Why, I wonder, did God put me here? What purpose? I know God likes to put His children through and experiences to better them. So what is the learning point here.

I guess I haven't been the most faithful of Christians. It didn't take too long for me to be consumed by my environment. This environment, which carries about it so much negativity and so devoid of spirituality, stripped me bare. It broke me. What it produced in me was a carnal, sinful, instinctive man who acted based upon his own skewed judgement. And what I didn't realise was the emptiness in me. I persisted in my behaviour and wondered in vain why do bad things always happen to me?

But as it goes, I am broken to be rebuilt. God has shown me my frailities. He has let me know my weaknessess. He has opened my eyes and has begun to refill the empty pits in my heart. He has strengthened me with joy and the knowledge of his grace and victory.

I leave soon with that in mind. God has prepared me for the working life. God has inspired me to let him lead, to let the Spirit take control, to submit to His will, to live my life with joy no matter what.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight."

- Proverbs 3:5-6

Why I'm Bloody Brilliant

Why am I so bloody brilliant?

I'm a good writer. I've got an imaginative mind. I can think of wonderful stories. Entertaining stories. I'm funny. In a unique way. I can make people laugh, I can also make people cry. I create worlds that people can believe in, characters that people fall in love with when I want them to, hate when I want them to.

...

Directionless... Hopeless... Not at all driven...

That's my current state. It seems I have nothing to write about. There are no changes. Nothing new happens. I'm stuck in this place where I'm facing the same problems I faced yesterday, a week ago, a month, a year...

Some things are for sure though. I'm sliding down the slippery slope of self-pity, self-loathing. I start to become more morose, more negative. It's a thin line between being realistic and being delusional. I look at myself sometimes, and I see a wastrel, a stubborn brat with pipe dreams. And yet, at other times, I think myself as someone with untapped talents who just haven't encountered, or siezed that one big break in life.

I wish to do better... Don't we all?

Let me question that feeling
That kind that puts aside your reasoning
I've made the mistake once, twice
Too many, many times

I've learnt, I've learnt
The hard way, I got burnt
Cause I'm just a young fella
I shoulda known betta

No matter what they say,
"Jump upon that impulse"
Don't, it'll ruin your day
There's no need to arouse

That feeling, again
Avoid needless pain
But I work against myself
I crave my personal hell

Won't you help me please

Chords:
I need a few more layers
Cause I get too cold too quick
Too slow to think
It's too hard too much
For me to take
I need a few more layers
Just to be sure
That I won't fall
I won't fall
Again

Hey I'm hurt
Have you heard?
But you don't care
Cause when I feel you're not there

"Well," he thought, as he preened over his computer, "Here I am again. Staring at a blank screen, the cursor flashing on and off, wondering what to do, how do I do this shit, how do I get words on the screen, enough words that I can give my publisher in exchange for money."

Indeed, he has spent many hours pondering. He has spent too many hours in fact, that he has forgotten one vital thing: nourishment. There he sat... Barely sitting... His skeleton very glaring indeed. He hadn't an ounce of fat, he never ate for a long time now... He just... sat. He hadn't a clue as to what night and day looked like anymore, and appearance besides, he was certaintly and surely, losing the concept that he was a human.

He had begun to think of himself as another enitity altogether. One with a singular purpose, one with different needs, and wants, but like I said, he had barely begun to identify this change in himself. Yet, he could feel an inkling. I know. I know so much because we touched. And because we touched, I know.

I sat there, not knowing what to do. He seemed to have captured me somehow. He seemed to had an aura, that, as I stared on, seemed to become more and more visible. It was a certain greenish glow, like that of stereotyped aliens depicted in mainstream films. I was enraptured by it. I was past the point of fear, it seemed to put me at ease very quickly. And then, I blinked.

And there he was. And he was typing. I looked at his fingers. They moved fast. A blur, a whirl. I saw the screen move as words filled up the once-empty spaces. I saw chapters, I saw long dialogues, I saw headings, I saw large words and small words, I saw simple ideas, and layman terms.

He was writing. He sat there, he lower body very still and his fingers danced, his hands swayed. Suddenly, he stopped. I realised then that I had stared at him for a very long time too. I could feel the grime and sweat on my body, and my plastered hair on my forehead. He turned his head to my direction and looked at me. Our eyes met. He was panting, he, too, was sweating profusely. He didn't smile, his eyes were gentle and at ease. He was done, and he knew he had no more part over here.

So he exploded.

Bits and chunks and him flew around, some were twirling, as if doing a final pirrouette before descending to the ground like a gentle feather, some were catapulted some distance away, through the windows, into the skies, never to be seen again.

I wiped my eyes, enough to see the screen. It was untouched and clean, ready to be read.

And read, I did. And page after page, dialogue after dialogue. I consumed the story, I unravelled the mysteries, and lifted up the layers, and lived the characters' lives. I too, then, was reduced to bones already. And when I read the last page, when I reached the last word, I read the last passage again. Again, and again, and again.

And then, I was done.

So I, too, exploded.

Where in this world, can I find a piece of my mind?

Cause I've overthought it, and I'm scattered over, convincing myself it's fine.

I'm really scared, I'm losing a part of me, that was a part of me for a long, long time.

Can't really see, ahead on this road, judging by what I was told, it's hard to find



A way to live this life, the way i want it

Stuck in this place with nowhere to go

Do you know, I'm losing my soul



Stop beating me up man, I'm begging

Start treating me right now, I'm saying

All I want is just peace and direction

That's all I want

Is it so hard to give

There is a sickness that drives this place

It strikes me hard with great distaste

It's seen in wars between the human race

Times we'd show our darker face



Who knew we'd spend so much on hate?

Is there hope for us when we meet our fates?

Will we be saved? Is it too late?

Are we devices to destroy what we create?



For the core of us is the desire of fulfilment

The needs of ours felt first by us

Our conditions, nature, thoughts and beliefs

Are only for ourselves, and for no one else