The Ex-SAC

Walk down the stairs towards the roundabout. Look to the right. The fiberglass panes, the minispiral staircase.

The entire section that didn't exist 4 years ago. What was it like before then, again? It took me more than a minute to remember the image.

I knew there was a ramp. I knew this area was road. I knew this place wasn't like that.

But why couldn't I picture it?

I knew they were there. I couldn't put any mental picture to it. It felt like a scenery I had read in a storybook that was incapable of being pictured in real life realistically.

The ramp that was where the current parade ground is.
The road that every UYO member marched on towards the old parade ground (Now a tiny field of untouched grass).
The substation that used to see the light of day.
The CPA with chairs all worn down and worn out, without a giant cross at the back of the stage to remind you that it served as a chapel on Sundays.
The complete sheltered path from the bus stop to the old block that didn't have zebra crossings in the middle.
The road up to school that was unwalkable because of cars, now flooded with students on the uphill climb.
The 2.12-2.14 '05 classrooms with a nice mini-courtyard just outside for anything under the sun, gone for the library.
The co-op that was along the route from 2.12 to the SAC, now replaced by the lower floor of the library. It always seemed far friendlier.
The old flagposts on Drong's hill (now a mere shadow of its former glorious self) where commands were heard by all, where flagraisers were seen by all and commanders felt like they were truly commanding. (The old parade ground felt similar too, actually. Something about the new parade ground just didn't give that feel.) Where commanding felt like an honour bestowed upon you.

All so alien. All as if it never existed. All because I've been here as it kept changing. Around me, against me, alongside me. Just like the subtle changes in myself I'd never have noticed.

They were so huge, yet so unnoticable.

There is good in the world

Some inevitabilities aren't inevitable. It's a matter of viewpoint.
Some impossibilities aren't impossible. It's a matter of trying.
Some miracles aren't miracles. It's a matter of faith.

There is good in the world.

A Tragedy

As I type this a tragedy occurs. A breaking up, a breaking down, a breaking apart.

A tragedy because it may have been inevitable. When I hear the situation I realize that it was almost impossible for either party to change.

A miracle can occur. But there needs to be a reason for a miracle to exist. There needs to be a reason for a miracle to need to exist.

You just can't pray for a miracle.

It feels so helpless being the observer at times. It feels so helpless being forced to be an observer. It feels so helpless knowing that being the observer is the only way not to make things worse on any end.

I can't pray for a miracle. I can only pray that it doesn't hurt that much.

Duty

When you try your best to do something as nicely as possible yet within the boundaries of what's actually possible it feels like you did a good job. I mean, you did the best that you could, and you're trying to make things as perfect as possible without asking for the impossible.

Then some guy comes up to you and sighs because you didn't do things beyond the boundaries.

Not that I'm pissed off with the guy or anything, but it's a tad demoralizing to hear such stuff when you're the one putting in the effort. Not because he isn't putting in any effort, but because he's right. It's sad how the boundaries can't be broken just because you want them to. It's harder than that. And it's quite sad that you're forced to work around them rather than face them head on.

Even if you try your best.

Fragmented Thoughts

It's been a rather busy week so I've only been able to blog about the day's events at a later point.

Cross country gave me a rather scary thought which I only managed to link up with an earlier event at a later point in time.

This year, there were thousands more injuries than the year before - despite being held at the same location, too. Figures, huh. For the note, there was only one injury last year, and my group handled it. This year, however, abrasions were aplenty. Fainting too. And falling down and the like. I think the main problem was forgetting to tell each station to make sure runners don't bloody run on the gratings.

That aside, the first casualty was a somewhat annoying bugger I knew (He wasn't too buggerish to me, personally. I just hear he is to many) who got four abrasions - both knees, left elbow, stomach. I don't even know how he got the one on the stomach.

I took out the alcohol swabs, and started wiping his knee. Unsurprisingly, he started cringing a lot. JAng wiped the other knee, and he was like owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww and so on. My first comment? "Bear with it. The stomach one may hurt even more."

Only at the end of the event did I realize how absolutely nonchalant I sounded saying that. What would he have felt hearing that? I'm not sure. It's a duty to care for a person's injuries but just as much a duty to care for the person himself, and I seemed to have forgotten the latter after all the injuries came along.

Was I desensitized to his feelings because of what I knew him to be? Because I'd seen these kind of stuff before and knew exactly what to do? Because I wasn't going to panic in the least bit while looking for the alcoholic swabs?

When I remembered my pain in the hospital and how much I hated the staff nurses that I realized that it wasn't their fault, but the nature of their job. It was inevitable that they would turn nonchalant to it all. To the cries of pain. To the plea asking them to stop for now.

It just turns into another job.

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Choral exchange was a painful reconciling with my past. Not that I don't stand by my actions (I don't actually, I just take responsibility for them) but sometimes I just felt it was kind of wasted and all. I do admit I felt he was a terribly annoying person and an absolute bugger to be around but I didn't have as much of an issue with him as .10 did. If I do admit it? It felt kind of stupid wasting a friendship over the other person being a bugger. I'd be killing friends all over if that happened, and I'm pretty sure other friends would be killing me all over if they had a similar attitude.

Well, it's good to know he's doing well in a new place. Just a pity I got to know him before that and saw him in the light that everyone had seen him. Wasted, but I have to live with it I guess.

For some people, it just isn't worth breaking friendships with, even if they seem to have problems here and there - their intelligence tends to make up for it, and truly smart people are always rarer than truly nice people.

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Speaking of that, it seems another friend is giving up on a rare opportunity for reasons pertaining to the people around him.

I won't say that I'm not partially at fault for creating such a situation in the first place, but personally it seems too much of a waste to give up such a good opportunity. To work with such a person.

Really, some things aren't worth abandoning no matter the reason. I better get something done soon. I just hope that this doesn't turn out to be more difficult than I expect it to be.