--- I ---

Why is it always so coincidental that when we are asked to think of USMS and WITS ideas, the swimmers are not around? As usual, PS Goh threatens: "If I don't have 36 USMS you all don't book out."

And as usual, I'm the one seated at the table receiving ideas from the various members of the platoon and writing down the problems, solutions and benefits into properly-constructed sentences with detailed and elaborated explanations and descriptions, although I'm writing so fast that my language construction becomes rather improper.

I've broken my record today: 12 pages within one day.

--- II ---

I AM NOT: un-stressed, un-pressurised, under-worked, brimming with ideas,

I LOVE: booking out, ORD, ROD, composition, conducting, playing crap stuff on the piano, writing my blog

I HATE: SOC, shuttle run, area cleaning, service and maintenance, people who like to abuse their authority, especially in the army

I UNDERSTAND: that I'm supposed to serve the army come the age of 18 under the Enlistment Act of Chapter 93 or whatever shit

I FEAR: the low rope, being punished physically, the balancing beam, the ramp and its con wire

I HOPE: to get into a conservatory, to downgrade, to ORD tomorrow, to ROD the day after

I HEAR: Garfield's snobbish voice and I really want to whack him

I REGRET: not flunking my medical check-up and get PES C instead

I CRY: because I am extremely hurt

I CARE: for my work

I BELIEVE: that hard work is the way. Don't be a fucker and sit there waiting for money to drop from the sky

I FEEL ALONE: but this is bullshit because I like being alone.

I LISTEN: to music that I like, and I deplore Mandarin pop songs, Techno and Heavy Metal

I HIDE: in my room behind my computer all the time

I EAT: SFI food five times a week, and that sucks

I DANCE: when I conduct

I WRITE: blogs, scripts, songs, satires, parodies

I PLAY: the piano

I DON'T PLAY: sports

I MISS: the people I haven't seen for a long time

I SEARCH: for my stylus which I lost on the very day upon acquiring my father's Nokia 6108

I FEEL: miserable - but I always feel that way, so what's surprising about that?

I DON'T KNOW: what approach my compositional style should take: simple, hummable melodies or those that are not even singable or recognisable at all

I TALK: to people online - very seldom now

I SUCCEED: in making a failure out of myself

I FAIL: to make a success out of myself

I DREAM: of being a civilian, holding a pink I/C

I WONDER: what other people are doing now

I WANT: to ORD!!!

I HAVE: no choice but to serve the army

I GIVE: and take, but most of the time I give and I don't take

--- III ---

My father tells me that he finally called MDC and they'd given him a reply.

The Audition I/C told him that the last time I went for the audition, I had said that I was "not interested".

?????????????????????????????????????????

And they only take in very few PES A people. Limited number of seats. Which means I'm in for a lot of competition.

I'm pessimistic about it. Suddenly I harbour thoughts about not going there, not even turning up for the audition. I just feel I cannot make it. I never took any graded examinations for the instrument I'm supposed to audition, the Zhong Ruan. I prepared for my A-level second instrument examination using that instrument on my own, with no teacher. I didn't have a personal tutor: I learned the Zhong Ruan in Secondary School as part of my CCA. Every week, the instructor specialising in that instrument would come and ten or so of us would be there to learn the instrument. It happened that I learnt the Liu Qin in Primary School and so the Zhong Ruan is a breeze, because the tunings and playing style (with the pick) are the same. Well, I can still play something decent . . .

But put me next to those people who have participated in national competitions and who are grade 7, 8 or 9 in the Chinese instrumental examinations, I'm sure to be out. The latter are likely to be favoured. It's just unfortunate I cannot audition for the piano, which I prefer playing, and play more frequently, than the Zhong Ruan.