MoREAL Courage.

I was sending my baobei home yesternight and we were waiting for our bus at the bus bay. Everything went along fine and our bus eventually arrived. We were preparing to board the bus when we noticed quite a commotion occurring ahead of our queue. Curiosity then pressed us to probe further into what was actually happening.

There was this guy (probably a foreign worker) in the opposite queue who was leaning way backwards on the support railing. His body appeared to be straightened and stiff like a plank of wood. His eyes were rolled back and his face was covered in sweat.

"What's happening to this man?"

"What can I do to help him?"

"Is there a need to help him?"

I thought to myself over and over again. I even tried to replay the CPR course from my Army days in my head. A barrage of afterthoughts soon followed.

As I approached him, my mind went into a complete blank. I froze when it was time for action. Ultimately, I didn't do anything to help. I just avoided him and went on to board the bus.

As I stood on the bus and watched person after person pass by this man without rendering help, an immense sense of guilt and regret overcame me. I knew what was the right thing to do, but I didn't act on it. I've always thought of myself as someone who is not your typical unfeeling Singaporean, someone who cares about the people around him, someone who would always be the first to lend a helping hand.

Sadly, as I realized yesternight, that was just fantasy on my part. It wasn't reality. I do not possess the moral courage to do what was right. I'm just a coward, one who was seriously disappointed in himself.

I know it's easy to stand back and blame other people for not helping, but if everyone were to do that then will there actually be someone stepping forward to render assistance?

I did some research on my own after the incident to find out what are the steps to undertake should I encounter a similar situation in the future. From my readings, I suspect that the man was suffering a seizure.

A seizure is a temporary abnormal electro-physiologic phenomenon of the brain, resulting in abnormal synchronization of electrical neuronal activity. Put simply, a seizure causes a person to lose control of their body movement or function, sensation, awareness or behaviour. It can last for several seconds to status epilepticus, which is a continuous seizure that will not stop without intervention.

First aid for seizures include not letting the person fall awkwardly and placing the person in an area free of sharp or dangerous objects. This is done to prevent injuries. The person should not be restrained in any way nor should there be any attempt to put something into the mouth. It is not necessary to call an ambulance if the person is known to have epilepsy, if the seizure is shorter than five minutes and is typical for them, if it is not immediately followed by another seizure, and if the person is uninjured. Otherwise, or if in any doubt, medical assistance should be sought.

So now that I know how to render first aid for seizures, I do not have an excuse to wimp out the next time I meet with a similar case. I want to do better the next time round.

Why We Should Be Friends.

So I was clearing some rubbish that were lying around my table for like eons. There were some study notes and a few consent forms, but the bulk of it was made up of uncompleted homework, LOTS of them. As I sifted through the pile to determine if there were any important documents which I might want to keep, I managed to excavate some priceless relics.

One of them was this letter written on a piece of crumpled and slightly yellowish Azone A4-sized paper. It was titled "Why We Should Be Friends".

The good old memories from Archester poured into my mind.

What is Archester you might ask?

The year was 1999. I was a plump nerd who joined the 1I class of River Valley High School. Everyone in the class was a stranger to me. Nonetheless, the boys bonded really quickly and before long we were like blood brothers.

We started getting really interested in soccer and eventually, we decided to form our own soccer team. After putting our heads together, it was a general consensus to settle on the name "Archester". It was a mix of the cream of the crop from the English Premier League, (Ar)senal and Man(chester). We actually considered adding Liverpool into the fray, but seriously Averchester didn't exactly sound cool, nor did Mansenapool, nor did Livchesenal. Well, you get the drift. So Archester it was, short and sharp.

Once the end-of-school bell rang, we would literally sprint to the nearby street soccer courts. It was the real reason why we came to school. The obsession was to the point where soccer was our primary duty instead of our studies. A few of us were even ranked amongst the worst students of our level academically.

Still, we didn't give a rat's ass about it. Our mind was only focused on the single act of kicking the ball into the back of the net. We were young and dangerous. Back in our heyday, we could even have conquered the world easily if we wanted to.

However, one fine day, our Form Teacher decided to break up the party. She reasoned that we were getting way out of hand and that the only way to salvage us was to split our group up and re-assign us to other classes. Our teacher had effectively puncture our balls. (This is just a figure of speech.)

Instant panic took over and Archester held emergency meetings to plan our next move. We decided to write an appeal to our teacher and prove to her that we were not being detrimental to each other, which essentially meant a well-thought pack of lies woven into a nice composition. (Pretty ingenious for a group of 14 year olds right? Yeah I know. We were THAT smart.)

So we got ourselves a piece of paper and started writing "Why We Should Be Friends". Everyone was suppose to contribute one paragraph to save our organization. Boy, was I proud of the work we did. Here is our masterpiece:

Page 1

Page 2

Needless to say, our teacher was utterly touched by the genuine friendship conveyed through our letter and we all lived happily ever after, eagerly anticipating the next end-of-school bell to ring once again.

Learning The Way of... ADOBE PHOTOSHOP!

As you guys might know, I recently re-ignited my interest in drawing and so have started an artblog @ http://veinity.deviantart.com/.

I've been snooping around other artists' galleries and man, the talent is mind-blowing! The digital artpieces that they can produce from Photoshop is totally insane. For example, take a look at this turkish guy's gallery @ http://kerembeyit.deviantart.com/.

Then, I thought to myself... Why stop at drawing? Why not pick up skills to abuse Adobe Photoshop too? So I searched through some tutorials online to learn how to do some basic colouring and shadowing. I also learnt how to paint some simple clouds using photoshop today.

After 5 hours of blood, sweat and tears, here's the fruit of my labour:

Long Horn in his original Black & White pencil sketch

Here's Long Horn happily at home amongst the clouds!

Isn't it amazing how much life a little bit of color can breathe into sketches? I know I'm still a long, LONG way from being good at photoshop, so I'll have to work extra hard! I hope one day I can produce pieces that are even remotely near Kerem Beyit's standard. Feeling so inspired now!

P.S. In case you're wondering, I didn't go to work today so that's why I got time on my hands to be doing stuff like this! Hahaha...

Depressing Times...

Liverpool got knocked out of the Champions' League this morning.

It was an exhilarating match nonetheless, action was end-to-end.

Yet, it's precisely that knowledge of being so close to the Finals that makes it all the more depressing.

Well, better luck next year.

I'm going to cry over this for a few more days.

(Yeah, I know you're thinking: "Come on it's only just a game." You're wrong. Football is not just a game. Football is LIFE.)

Goodbye NUS... Hello NTU!

"I regret to inform you that..."

That was the first thing I heard upon entering my house. It was my father. My spider sense immediately foretold that he had received the letter from Nanyang Technological University (NTU) regarding my admission into Communication Studies.

My heart sank.

And then I saw the letter. It was still in basking in its own majestic glory, all wrapped up in a nice little enveloped colored red and white. So now I know where I got my I-Like-To-Pull-Pranks-On-Other-People Gene from. So, I dived for the envelope and tore it open much like a starved caveman who chanced upon a piping-hot piece of KFC crispy drumstick.

"Congratulations! The University Admission Selection Committee has approved..."

Yayee~

I was seriously mentally preparing myself for rejection. Can't say I was really outstanding during the admission test cum interview. Nonetheless, Lady Luck is and always will be my BFF and this time she smiled on me yet again. Perhaps not just merely a smile, she probably LAUGH OUT LOUD-ED.

Anyways, I'm truly grateful to be accepted into Communication Studies! Because in a few months' time I can...

1) Have breakfast, brunch, lunch, high tea, low tea, dinner and supper with my baobei
2) Officially go brokeback with Jim in our warm and cozy hostel
3) Meet up with all my bestest friends and save on traveling fares

Whoo hoO~ Communication Studies here I come!!!

Alright for now I shall go and sacrifice some more nuggets to show my gratitude.

My Thesis on National Service!

Since it is a rite of passage to write about your NS experience, I'll be doing this to keep the tradition going. So here it goes...

I would like to begin by stating that possibly ALL Singaporean males detest Army life except for the few who wake up in the dead of the night, put on their Full Battle Order and start marching around the bunk while they are still ASLEEP. So I'll start with the 3 reasons why the Army is a nightmare for NSFs (Full-Time National Servicemen).

First of all, for some reason, your direct superiors cannot communicate normally. Normal meaning how a person would talk to his friends/colleagues/people in general. They absolutely MUST talk to you as if you have murdered their parents and you owe them a living. Perhaps the best word to use here is not talk, I'll change that to SHOUT. Also, Army personnel don't use punctuation like commas and full-stops (although they use exclamations a lot), instead using vulgarities to replace them.

A simple statement like:
"Hey Recruit Lim, can you stop resting for a moment? Help me go fill up that Jerry Can with water."

Through the mouth of an experienced army personnel, it will become:
"Oi Recruit Lim cheebye you trying to chao geng right? Kanina faster go and fill that fucking Jerry Can with water!"

Secondly, they pretty much swing threats at you whenever the slightest mistakes are made. Trust me no sane person in this world likes to live in fear of extra duties, confinements or in the worse case scenario, DB (AKA Detention Barracks which is the army equivalent of the Changi Prison and probably the most feared acronym out of the gazillions used by the Army). Some examples include:

"How come your uniform color so faded! Wanna get extra?"

"Urinal how come got yellow stain! Wanna be confined?"

"You dare to talk back to me? Wanna go DB?"

Last but not least, there is a pretty famous mantra in the Army that goes by, "Rush to wait, wait to rush." Your superiors will typically rush you to get things done (E.G. change into PT attire, arrive at the next venue) and make it feel like the end of the world if it is not completed in an instant. But when you have finally completed the task assigned, something will crop up on their side and you will find yourself waiting for them instead. Thus, to prevent yourself from going mad just recite the above mantra in your mind like 26532 times (On average that's the amount of chants you have to do before they finally arrive).

Despite all that has been said above, I guess it is still possible to make the Army experience enjoyable, you just have to know where to look. For me, it was the people whom I got to know that made the experience so much more memorable. Like myself, the ones beside me were unwilling servants too. Although there were some tough times, it was always comforting to know that I was not alone. Somehow having your buddies go through the same shit as you, makes the process much less of a torture.

So you see, National Service isn't really so dreadful. You just have to learn to find the joy (OR you could just get an 8-5.30 posting... LIKE ME MUAHAHA!).

(Re-)Opening Ceremony of a Long Lost Friend

*Brushes off the thick layer of dust that has descended upon this space*

It's been a mighty long time since I last wrote in you Mr. Great Old thefunkymunky.blogspot.com. Hope you didn't miss me as much as I missed you.

A few days ago I spelled "tomorrow" as "tml" in a letter I drafted, and in that instant, I figured it was an omen from you to me to use you again. I'm indeed in a dire need of some practice before University Life actually begins. Can't imagine how I'm going to write all those papers without getting myself to spell right.

Your humble servant is here now and bent down on his knees, begging you Mr. Great Old thefunkymunky.blogspot.com to help me find back my old self once again.

*Proceeds to sacrifice a pair of chicken wings and 2 nuggets*