The End's Not Near, It's Here

Oh hell, it really is here. All the months of living vicariously through fellow bald-folk while whiling my time away with top-level slackers (you know who you are) are finally near an end, and God knows how much I'm going to be missing everyone back here. As much as I probably don't show it, it's the darndy truth.

There isn't actually much to complain about, considering that from what it sounds the confinement for our batch's only going to last a grand total of twelve days, which isn't actually enough time to cultivate new species of fungi in your boots yet. That's a great plus, I reckon. Especially since I was expecting a close to three week stay-in, which would probably have been enough to start a multinational corporation of bacterium in my then hitherto bagged and unwashed uniforms. So thanks for the hopeful news people, it's the one glimmer of hope I'll be clinging on to all this time.

And so here I am now, at a loss for what thoughts I'd like to put down before I get, well, put down in Tekong (images of SPCA posters and euthanasia debates spring to mind). Apart from the unsightly, unsoundly and ultimately unhealthy act of mourning, there isn't really much else I can say. You would probably know by now what goes through a typical mind when confronted with the prospects of what appears to be the synonym for prison, and it would do little good for me to rant the same to you in an unrelenting verbal torrent reminiscent of an overzealous phone salesperson.

'But then wouldn't we have a lack of a point for this post?', you might be asking. I'd be hard pressed to find a satisfactory reason for why I had to bore you with all this, or why I'd even bother to write paragraphs upon paragraphs explaining why I don't actually have a purpose for including said paragraphs.

Perhaps I just needed to get things out of my head.

Perhaps I wanted to get myself into the frame of mind that yes, army is indeed tomorrow.

Perhaps I didn't feel right including more than the vague.

Perhaps I needed to leave something before I left.

Perhaps I hoped that exposition would feel reassuring.

Perhaps I should stop here before attempts at being poetic vacate the building and melodrama takes up residence.

In all honesty it hardly feels as if by tomorrow I'll be sitting on a ferry, nameless save for a couple of initials, bundled with the rest of the statistical thousands, travelling across a vast body of water which, while being immeasurably vast in its own Asian right, still cruelly allows you to despondently view your home island from a distance. On the right contrary, I'm still sitting around with my bag glaring empty, my phone readily sporting a camera, and my blog draft staring me back in the face. It is time though, and I better start wrapping my head around that fact.

Here goes nothing