The Colder Days
Sunday, November 26, 2006
The Colder Days
The end of a long journey is usually the warmer part of the adventure.With the end in sight and the road leading to your destination coming to an end,you look back and you wonder just how the hell you pulled though that first miles of the leg,those dreadful distances under your feet.I guess for me personally,the start of NS life was a rather blurry period of my life.Besides trying to survive those days alone on a distant island,i was struggling to find myself,find my identity on the island.That's all part of the process of a person's evolution when it comes to personality i guess,and i remember losing myself on the cyberspace.I stopped by two year habit then: Blog.I stopped blogging at the start of National Service,visiting my old blog once every two months or so.The truth was,the old self was utterly gone,and the new self was - though changed - lost interest in documenting my life.Besides,at that time,Sarah wasnt around to break my heart.
Anyway,in ten or twenty years' time,if i get around to write an autobiography of myself,then i can safely say that i went through and survived the first months of NS with pride.And the pride is very much more elevated,considering the fact that i was such a weak and sickly person.I remember my friend Han Wei and Valerie both commenting that i was a different person after the NS-Treatment,that i always looked sick or weak in the school days(All thanks to the tan).Until now,when asked just how i survived those days,i cannot give a full account of what happened.A part of the trick is to switch your mind off,just follow orders and instructions and never question the intentions of them.With your mind off,time is only relative and it doesnt matter anymore.You go by events and not hours,and by setting the end of your tolerance to the next book out day,you find yourself enduring the toughest and hardest of the NS days,without actually noticing it very much.Really,instead of looking at the end of the road (ORD),i think - to all NSFs out there - look at the next book out,look at the next weekend.Sooner or later,you are going to find yourself where i am now,and that is going to be something you apply to your life i'm sure.
Anyway,this entry was really meant to be a photographic blog,about just how far i've come since the early days of NS,the colder days.I remember the first day very well,when i visited the barber and had my hair trimmed off.The coldness i felt at the back of my head whenever the wind blew,and the way the shampoo rolled off the top of my head in the shower.I never felt the pillow with the back of my head before,and i felt it on the first night,and that is ten hours before seeing myself without hair for the first time.Those were the days,how distant and faraway it all seems now.But they were good memories,though it doesnt necessarily mean that i'd shave my head in the not-so-distant future.The tight fists on my knee caps,i still remember,during the oath taking and the singing of the national anthem(Speaking of The National Anthem,why cant all countries' anthems be like Radiohead's?),translated into all the frustrations,all the anger,all the fear that i had for the road ahead in that auditorium.
With the last post about NS,i think it is only fair to have one about the beginning days.I dont think this is going to be it,but rather a pictorial version of what it is to come.I believe a picture tells a thousand words,and the following series of photographs are the ones i took - or rather my sister took - during my POP,my Pass Out Parade,when i childishly thought that this is it,that hell was over and everything's going to be fine now(Keat Hong awaits!).But i didnt know that,not everything.At that moment i was happy,and i was free.I was on cloud number nine,feeling the cold breeze still against my bald head,and knowing that soon enough i am not going to feel that anymore,was both bittersweet and exhilarating.
The end of a long journey is usually the warmer part of the adventure.With the end in sight and the road leading to your destination coming to an end,you look back and you wonder just how the hell you pulled though that first miles of the leg,those dreadful distances under your feet.I guess for me personally,the start of NS life was a rather blurry period of my life.Besides trying to survive those days alone on a distant island,i was struggling to find myself,find my identity on the island.That's all part of the process of a person's evolution when it comes to personality i guess,and i remember losing myself on the cyberspace.I stopped by two year habit then: Blog.I stopped blogging at the start of National Service,visiting my old blog once every two months or so.The truth was,the old self was utterly gone,and the new self was - though changed - lost interest in documenting my life.Besides,at that time,Sarah wasnt around to break my heart.
Anyway,in ten or twenty years' time,if i get around to write an autobiography of myself,then i can safely say that i went through and survived the first months of NS with pride.And the pride is very much more elevated,considering the fact that i was such a weak and sickly person.I remember my friend Han Wei and Valerie both commenting that i was a different person after the NS-Treatment,that i always looked sick or weak in the school days(All thanks to the tan).Until now,when asked just how i survived those days,i cannot give a full account of what happened.A part of the trick is to switch your mind off,just follow orders and instructions and never question the intentions of them.With your mind off,time is only relative and it doesnt matter anymore.You go by events and not hours,and by setting the end of your tolerance to the next book out day,you find yourself enduring the toughest and hardest of the NS days,without actually noticing it very much.Really,instead of looking at the end of the road (ORD),i think - to all NSFs out there - look at the next book out,look at the next weekend.Sooner or later,you are going to find yourself where i am now,and that is going to be something you apply to your life i'm sure.
Anyway,this entry was really meant to be a photographic blog,about just how far i've come since the early days of NS,the colder days.I remember the first day very well,when i visited the barber and had my hair trimmed off.The coldness i felt at the back of my head whenever the wind blew,and the way the shampoo rolled off the top of my head in the shower.I never felt the pillow with the back of my head before,and i felt it on the first night,and that is ten hours before seeing myself without hair for the first time.Those were the days,how distant and faraway it all seems now.But they were good memories,though it doesnt necessarily mean that i'd shave my head in the not-so-distant future.The tight fists on my knee caps,i still remember,during the oath taking and the singing of the national anthem(Speaking of The National Anthem,why cant all countries' anthems be like Radiohead's?),translated into all the frustrations,all the anger,all the fear that i had for the road ahead in that auditorium.
With the last post about NS,i think it is only fair to have one about the beginning days.I dont think this is going to be it,but rather a pictorial version of what it is to come.I believe a picture tells a thousand words,and the following series of photographs are the ones i took - or rather my sister took - during my POP,my Pass Out Parade,when i childishly thought that this is it,that hell was over and everything's going to be fine now(Keat Hong awaits!).But i didnt know that,not everything.At that moment i was happy,and i was free.I was on cloud number nine,feeling the cold breeze still against my bald head,and knowing that soon enough i am not going to feel that anymore,was both bittersweet and exhilarating.
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on Sunday, November 26, 2006 at 12:10 PM.
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