Looking back, I feel that I have really, very little record of the unhappy things that happy. Its as if there are no unhappy events for me, only unhappy emotions.

It's a bit like travelling in overdrive, and you suddenly see a hairpin turn, or your instructor tells you to do a u-turn or something. You brake, slow down, change lane, change down gears, look far, turn the steering wheel with all your might and that moment when you turn the corner your hands are full, your eyes alert and your mind focuses on some spot in the distance (because looking at the edge of the cliff is sure to bring you down that cliff, just like focusing your eyes on a pedestrian to avoid him is going to give him a better chance of being run over.) It's instinct and stuff.

And then you realise you're down to gear 2 and have to work your way up. Accelerate. You forget the corner. It's the next one now. By the way, I love driving. Love the sound of the gears, the shifting of eyes from place to place. It hasn't become routine yet. I usually hate speed, like roller coasters and stuff, but this is different

Tend also to feel bad about a lot of stupid things. When i buy food back for my family, I think of all the times when I didn't. do so. You wish you knew these things sooner, how to care, how to manifest love into tangible take-homes. How to say all you have to say.

Had a discussion with one of the new recruits just yesterday, sort of like an interview. He was pretty smart, and he's a dreamer, so the conversation rather naturally turned to bigger things, the army, the society, the world. And he asked if I thought people in Singapore would be ready to change. I felt that people would change when they're forced to do so.

I like L'Arena by Enrico Morricone, off the Kill Bill 2 soundtrack. When she decides she just wants to bust out of that coffin. It's a 60's song, I believe, and probably used for some war movie because you can hear the simulation of machine gun fire over 2 ridges echoing at each other, and the sound of shells and links dropping on the floor. I'd like to think it's the Spanish Civil War because of the guitar and the snare drum and the triumphant trumpet but I realise it could very well also be Italian guns in WW2, although the image one has of Italian fighters in WW2 is certainly not heroic, as compared to the song. I'd like to believe it was the Civil War, and that reminds me of 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' by Hemingway, and reminds me then also of a very good period I had in JC where I felt especially lucid in the mornings,

The whole Kill Bill series was quite inspiring. Some people found it stupid. I was engaged to it because of its elegance, in swordfighting, and even when Bill stood up, buttoned his shirt and walked away to die. Macam old western.