Here We Go Again

There's this song that goes Here We Go Again. If I am not mistaken, it's Animal by Neon Trees.

And indeed, here we go again. My last post was before I entered Pasir Lebar Camp, for my Foundation term in SCS. A few hours before actually. A new journey after BMT. 8 weeks in PLC, learning the basics from scratch, with an emphasis on leadership.

And I enjoyed it. Everything was fun. Training was logically tougher than BMT, but BMT's toughness was the hardship of adaptation, not of training. But in SCS, we are fit. We should be fit. IPPT was a requirement to enter Command School. The army relies on the concept of leading by example. And how can I implore my men to keep fit if I failed my IPPT?

Hypocrisy at its best. And to counter that, we have to be at our best. Only then can we teach. Only then can we show. Only then can we lead.

So I graduated two days ago. Come to think of it, the 8 weeks went by like a flash. I might be the only one thinking that way though. And this acceleration of time was not felt at the end of the course but at any point in time on course. I suppose I wasn't bored as often as usual. For that, the army gets a commendation from me.
Here we go again. Because Wednesday, I am due to book in Kranjib camp. Artillery. Every boy's dream when young. If it wasn't to be a police or an astronaut or the President of Singapore(this was actually a trend), then it was missiles. Psssssh.

How can anyone dislike missiles. Ignore the damage it deals. Ignore the pain it causes. Just think about its graceful flight, thrumming with power and intent. Just think about the ideas and effort that has been put into it; like a needle threading though a minuscule hole. With quite a significant bit less room for error.

And so, I am excited. Artillery. I would have rather medic but well, seems like it was full. /shrugs.

I think I am writing a little more informally than usual. Pardon. I am really quite tired and I feel like sleeping. But sheer force of will keep me awake, if not only to prevent myself from inherently wasting time.

What else hmm. I simply cannot end with such a short post. But I am not ranting. I am actually coherent, if a little tired.

Ah.

I bought a book. Oh god, what a book. Leather bound. Slip cover with alternate art and The Story of Morpheus, Master of Dream. The stories are beautiful, as is the art. Every page, I marvel at the effort of the comic and of what Morpheus is going through. And the smell. Better than any drugs I have never yet tasted. I assume they would have the same effort on me as a new book would though. Especially a leather wrapped one.

And boy, is it heavy. And expensive too. When my mom asked, I just sheepishly grin at her. And she was annoyed. Splurging 70-80 dollars on a book, she said.

Well, I didn't argue. The book cost 129.