DiViNE EViL

Today was another boring day, another out-of-camp park run for our unit, like we sometimes do on Fridays. Minus the fact that we apparently saw a corpse.

It was nothing shocking, really. The day for us started at 0415, due to the fact we had to prepare for the run which was in Pasir Ris Park, and so far away from our camp. When we reached there it was about 0600 and us being the unfit or 'disabled' were to be marshallers spread throughout the running route. We set off, first towards the mangrove swamp, which was pitch-black due to the absence of lights there. Not to mention we were pushing a trolley filled with bulky items through the darkness, trying to prevent the edge of the table on the trolley from rebounding off the handrails. When we were through to the other side, all of the rest were deployed except for the two of us, excluding the sergeant deploying us (who was on a bicycle). This was when an old guy on a bicycle cycled towards us and told the sergeant that somebody had apprently hanged himself deeper in the park on the path perpendicular to the one we were travelling on. The sergeant followed him and when he returned, he had a call and was told that the route of the run was being changed due to rain. In the end, the deployed people were regrouped, and we still had to walk by the path at which the person was hanged to our new destination.

It was not as you would expect a person to hang himself. Leaning against a tree near the side of the path, a person, probably in his 40s, immobile. I didn't take a closer look because you probably wouldn't want to take a closer look in that situation. But you'd expect a person hanging himself to be dangling. In fact, to me, in that one glance that I captured the scene, he looked strangely unreal. I heard from the others who were there that his hands were tied as well, held behind his back. Also, until somebody mentioned it, I didn't notice that it was Friday the thirteenth.

From there the day continued normally. I quickly forgot about that incident after stoning around watching people run by for about three hours. We didn't return to that spot, so we did not see what the police did there.

I would have thought the impression on this incident was decent, but I already seem to be forgetting this small spark of interest in a mundane routine of work. Perhaps the interest in me to these type of events are minute at most. Still, it's worth typing here in a 'event' post rather than a 'thoughts/opinion' post.

In which something different can actually affect you in a beneficial manner.

So I'm going to take lessons from my old piano teacher again. This time the purpose is to apply for something more difficult than obtaining a diploma. To me this seems impossible. Unfortunately the persistence of my father means I have to at least attempt this. Now that my mini break from work is coming, it is time I have actually done something to consolidate my interests.

It is alright if you do not appreciate my work because it is for a different audience, but please don't say that I'm wasting my time. I am learning, however not related to anything directly, but this knowledge is useful is some ways that you would never expect. Support my back and I will grant you respect in return, though everybody starts with a decent amount of respect from me. I carry no prejudices. The only way I would, is for you to lose my respect, time and time again.

But now, it's back to the old days for me. Sticking with the same piano teacher since I was just Grade 2. It's thanks to her that I have such a wonderful skill to exhibit (though I'm just not a performer). If I succeed in this next manoeuver, I owe my life to her...

The idea of music has purified me once again.

It's not as unusual as I thought when I'm asked to share about my apparent unique character. It's not specifically outstanding when I say I'm partly different, but as I share and absorb the experiences of others, they suspect the high requirements from my family have something to do with it.

I do not deny, that the character and principles of my father have perturbed my thoughts and shunned the opportunities that I could have taken advantage of. More often than not, our extreme differences clash and friction generates between our ideas. Being the senior, he of course takes no hesitation to implant his values into me and hopes that I conform. But judging from how I see others, this pressure has actually generated a reverse effect, something that I am ashamed of, unable to change even as I try. And don't get me started when I actually try. Trying is not something that requires full effort, that is conforming.

I've had somebody tell me he was not satisfied with his own character, knowing his faults, but unable to change them. Characteristics driven by instinct are not easy to change. Easier said than done. He told me that, in the highly monitored past that we had gone through by our elders, it has actually restricted some parts of our development. Many people, like him, are grounded for a punishment. I actually stayed at home so much that I was chased out of the house. And then you know, people who actually care too much about you do you harm.

Being less restriced, free and loose, allowed the others to learn their own mistakes at their own accord, unafraid to be subjected by rejection of their closest members. For those who were caned for every tiny mistake they made, they grew up either being geniuses or the banes of life. Either way, not normal. A forced genius is more dangerous than a normal human being. A genius is born a genius. A person not, but forced to be one, is subject to tremendous pressure. On rare occasions they exceed their limit in the form of an outburst, causing situational but heavy mental and emotional damage to the individual as well as their family. Those who manage to subdue this pressure, usually, even if they succeed, are distinctively marked by other normal people by distinctive traits. Perhaps it could be extremist imaginations. Forceful demands. Solitary preference. With this knowledge it is extremely easy to identify the environment in which a person is brought up. They could even cause their own children to suffer as a chain reaction. And most of them, they don't realise it themselves, or even if they do, they know there's nothing they can do about it.

So let's be free. Things come naturally to you in a normal course of human life. As long as you do not indulge in something too useless, there is always hope to integrate yourself into the community. Do not be forced by others throughout your lifetime. No human being's emotional capacity can sustain such detrimental volume. Everything that you do grants you knowledge. Even if this knowledge is not related to your aspirations, it doesn't matter. This knowledge makes us free, unrestricted from a linear pathway of the progression of your life.

So, please, from now, allow my own path to unravel itself.

http://nevilinity2.blogspot.com

It was blissful. End of story.

Okay maybe not the end, but the touch and the feel of playing those pieces I should have accomplished few years back, have transported my mind and mental being into the past, the glorious days where I contemplated those pieces with ethereal sophistication. I sadly look at my position today and thought what it might have been, again. Facebook also added this nostalgic feeling of my solitary past and the unfortunate introvertic character I have always wanted to shrug off.

Now I have requests from people I know who are extremely close, and people I don't know at all. People requesting me to create notecharts for a certain song. People requesting me to make additions and changes to my Warcraft map. Relatives requesting me to perform more popular music on piano. And myself requesting the power to do it all, and to play a decent La Campanella one of days. But I like what I'm doing. This requirement to keep those people happy, to fulfil both their requests and mine simultaneously, grants us the enjoyment that we need, despite not being a job worthy of income.

But that's what makes your life.

Shadowraze Wars v1.7c

http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?0mjhhjd5d5m



O2mania/DJ MAX- Nightmare

http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?3cjummjz1jd

In these few months, instead of playing games, creating them are pretty fun. Especially when you will know people who appreciate them. I created a map for Warcraft III, Shadowraze Wars, early last year but it was full of bugs. A month or two back I dug it out again and improved on it. Taking suggestions from testers who didn't mind the bugs, I made this to be a stable decent minigame map. It's not that difficult really: learn to use the basic triggers in the editor, then search how to use functions on various websites. It was tiring sometimes but worth the effort. Note: Shadowraze Wars v1.8 is not created by me

Then I created several notecharts for the now-defunct O2jam, but its O2mania emulator is useful. By incorporating DJ max songs into the emulator, I constructed several notecharts (some are just for visuals, and probably impossible to play). Even though this hasn't spread yet, the important thing is that I satisfy my own goal of accomplishing the full rhythm and beat of the song.

In these weeks to come, I might just continue on this. It's amazing you can do all this all at home using one machine. But soon things have to move on. Next year shall be crucial yet again. Then I won't stop you all asking me where I'm going after my National Service. It has to be decided then.

The future is yet to arrive.

Nothing's been interesting at all. Time is passing without aim. I'm sitting here doing the same thing week after week. And there's still a year to go.

Hopefully I will be doing something different and interesting next year. I probably have to. It's another year wasted and this should not go on. In fact, I think I'm deteriorating. I feel my command of the English language has deproved, and there are many instances that I find I cannot look for the exact word I'm trying to mean. Just like now.

For the sake of showing I'm still alive, I would still post here every month, if I remember.

To hell with routine.