Life hasn't been particularly inspiring as of late. I think it has something to do with me spending my weekdays in a workshop fixing vehicles that the SAF dares not show to the public. No, I am not working on top secret classified military vehicles, on the contrary, I am servicing relics from World War II that would make the SAF blush with embarassment like a woman.

There is nothing new to NS life. I cannot find anything new to write about it. I have written about meeting new people, I have written about opening perspectives; but as it always is with the SAF, I find myself running around in circles.

The politics is mildly interesting, but more distasteful than anything else. I cannot believe the amount of power invested in these crooked stripes and bars, but it is enough to keep so many in servile silence. I already know the price for breaking it, but perhaps I should do so anyway. I have two years to screw up my life, after all, might as well experiment with clawing my way around.

The people are boring. Singapore needs to find ways to produce more interesting individuals. I make few friends - I don't count those that I politely smile at and engage in small talk while squatting in between the wheels of a land rover twice my age.

Nostalgia is still cheap. I don't miss anyone as I move from camp to camp - If you catch me saying I do, I'm probably paying lip service to the generations and generations of fools that have come before me.

And Love is as it always is - indescribable and wonderful.