The Suck is here
This blog was extablish to chronicle all the stuff that would happen as I march inexorable but cluelessly towards army life - thus "Highway to the suck". Well, the journey ends in less then two weeks. two. fucking. weeks. Then 2 years would be thrown down the drain. Even though during the last few months while my NS status was in limbo I probably wasted away, at least I was wasting away on my terms, not on the terms of a faceless and heartless bureaucracy.
My melancholy is not due to what I have to do there, since there are some things I know I have to take on my chin no matter how much I absofuckinglutely detest them (although, like i said, just because everyone does it does not make it right). No. It is due to the fact that I'm going to be uprooted and asked to adjust to a way of life that frankly I have little respect for (a culture based on harsheness and brutality while lacking the amazing capacity for achievement that great militaristic cultures have). It is due to the fact that almost 2 years of my life will be gone as a matter of course. Surely, this situation warrants a bit of melancholy?
My heart would always soar when I hear the familiar and melodious tunes of 'You'll never walk alone (being a red probably does that to you)'. I've always found its message inspiring and comforting. If I walk on with hope in my hearts, then I'll NEVER walk alone. A part of me always sought to believe in and seek refuge in that message. A part of me had always believed that in whatever I do, if I reach out, someone will reach back and I won't be alone. Well, the prospect of army has conclusively proven that faith to be pure bollocks.
And I've realised that despite any concern or good intentions, I have to soldier on (ahaha fuck) and face this alone. I'll be the one sailing towards the island and I'll be the one defeacating in a pit I dugged up myself (though sadly I won't get to do explosives due to my ear problem sigh). When life over there is so far removed from civilian life, then it is difficult for people who are not there or are never going to be there to empathise and provide any solid comfort.
But ah well, I guess this deluge of emotions has been experienced by dozens before me and will be experienced by dozens more after me, and USUALLY people turn out fine after their baptism of fire in hell. In a way I want to see what being cut off from everybody for such a period of time would do to me. So I shall limit all my bitterness to the confines of this blog entry, and aim to step into hell with as much poise as I can muster.
At least, for a while more, I don't need to walk alone yet. I hope.
My melancholy is not due to what I have to do there, since there are some things I know I have to take on my chin no matter how much I absofuckinglutely detest them (although, like i said, just because everyone does it does not make it right). No. It is due to the fact that I'm going to be uprooted and asked to adjust to a way of life that frankly I have little respect for (a culture based on harsheness and brutality while lacking the amazing capacity for achievement that great militaristic cultures have). It is due to the fact that almost 2 years of my life will be gone as a matter of course. Surely, this situation warrants a bit of melancholy?
My heart would always soar when I hear the familiar and melodious tunes of 'You'll never walk alone (being a red probably does that to you)'. I've always found its message inspiring and comforting. If I walk on with hope in my hearts, then I'll NEVER walk alone. A part of me always sought to believe in and seek refuge in that message. A part of me had always believed that in whatever I do, if I reach out, someone will reach back and I won't be alone. Well, the prospect of army has conclusively proven that faith to be pure bollocks.
And I've realised that despite any concern or good intentions, I have to soldier on (ahaha fuck) and face this alone. I'll be the one sailing towards the island and I'll be the one defeacating in a pit I dugged up myself (though sadly I won't get to do explosives due to my ear problem sigh). When life over there is so far removed from civilian life, then it is difficult for people who are not there or are never going to be there to empathise and provide any solid comfort.
But ah well, I guess this deluge of emotions has been experienced by dozens before me and will be experienced by dozens more after me, and USUALLY people turn out fine after their baptism of fire in hell. In a way I want to see what being cut off from everybody for such a period of time would do to me. So I shall limit all my bitterness to the confines of this blog entry, and aim to step into hell with as much poise as I can muster.
At least, for a while more, I don't need to walk alone yet. I hope.