October 15th, 2005 -- Posted in poetry |
While having too much time in camp, I had with me an old sketch book I used to sketch and scribble with. Guess what I found… a poem I wrote about 10 years ago. I don’t quite recall what inspired me, but this poem somehow struck me to how I used to feel.
Acidic Tears
Acidic tears are burning
I’m lost beyond my own words
Ask me what I’m thinking
I’d say I’m not ready for the worst
Problems meant not to be solved
Questions meant not to be asked
I’m only wishing for a hope
One that’d be better than the last
Family and friends are for eternal
This I know and I dearly hold
But there’re some I quiety curse
Don’t ask me why… I really don’t know
By this far in my life I realize
Tears are meant to be swallowed
They don’t just fall forever
And they’d never turn cold
Acidic tears were rolling
Down my cheeks quivering
I’d rather choose to forget
Don’t ask me what I was thinking
October 15th, 2005 -- Posted in rants |
One week has passed since I started my ICT (short of In Camp Training, meaning being a reservist). Though most would have thought ‘poor thing, a week away from civilization going through life stripped of freedom…’. On the contrary, my week of ICT was more like a week off from my civil obligations at work and spent my time, other than occasional simple administrative tasks, catching up with the novels I have yet to finish.
YES, though we do not have the liberty to do as we please when serving ICT, we are bounded within a space with practically nothing much to do… and it’s a good thing, actually. When there isn’t much you can do, you are forced to head back to the basics, either to clear your mind and to do some self-reflection, or just simply read a book to kill time. At other times, my ICT-mates and I amuse each other with stories we faced over kopi breaks, and by laughing off our daily stress and quirks we help each other lift the weights off our hearts.
In other words, ICT is a perfect opportunity to wind down and a great therapheutic session.
