Dear Dreams

You know – it’s going to be sad if someone doubts you after you’ve tried your best and even put in the best thoughts for him or her.

People who are older or more experienced or successful would definitely advise you to persist on. But does it worth to waste your time on someone who doesn’t even have the patience to listen to you? It’s best to keep quiet if you don’t have power to overcome a group of people who are so united when their deeds are being untold, or if you’re just too kind to let them have their retribution. Just shut up.

When people often ask you to speak up, say nothing you think need to redress. Everyone just expects sweet talks; at least in their minds they hope you’ll say only something nice.

I’m totally disappointed. I’m being stabbed all over my back, my soul and my most inner purity. The person who I thought I could trust most doesn’t believe my words. The deepest respect I’ve always shown her mocks at my stupidity. My injustice lays unrest. I know I should never trust officers in ***.

I don’t wish to drag anyone in, even though they’re really screwed up. I just wish to leave the world of backstabbing. Often, I’m impressed when the bullies stand together to victimise me after they backstab each other. This hypocritical is far too disgusting for me to visual.

It’s so unreasonable to take my medical appointments into account that I’ve less 2 half days to work per week and that I should work extra to cover up; my injuries are almost insignificant until I start working at AVA, where I carry stuffs while others are sleeping or gaming inside the old office.

I’ve witnessed so much ugly facts, too much for me to remember. My biggest mistake is that I tell myself not to remember them and I don’t keep daily diary anymore like in the past due to lack of time and fuck up life in the army. Isn’t it impossible for me to recall every date for all the bad incidents over the past 6 months?

They just don’t like each other. Chen De has been planning for his I/C role since I first know him. The frequency of him sleeps inside the office keeps the morale of the team down. Jonathan doesn’t know Chen De has badmouthed him so often, though to some statements I’ve to nod, it’s so amusing that Jonathan doesn’t believe in the rumours. Both of them know Lionel has been wayanging (pretending hardworking) so much in front of Shep hence she adores him, yet he slacks during the tasks given and ignores all the shit inside the office.

I can’t provide evident to anything and I’m not going to penalise anyone because each of them in the surface smile so much to me. There’re many witnesses though, who wouldn’t want to be involved. I can’t be bothered with them as long as they don’t stab me. Every time, I can only laugh at how they ruin their own images.

The place is called hell and I’ve almost 13 more months to suffer.

Nowadays, the contractors have become more and more “garang” (hardworking). You’d never believe they’d stay back for work until near midnight. I don’t know if I should curse or praise them when I’ve to stay along with them.

It’d be cruel for me to chase them away when their project was going to be due soon. I could have just called the guardhouse and rifled men would be sent up. Contractors weren’t allowed to stay until 7pm, but even the guard commander didn’t know their existence in the camp.

I stayed in the theatrette since before lunch to hear them drill holes through the about twenty centimetres thick wall. The impact was so big in the enclosed small control room. I told them I had to leave by 6pm for my duty and the workers packed up before their boss came back. I thought that was the end of my day.

Just when I was leaving the office, the contractor’s boss came in and said they were in a rush and had to open the theatrette. I opened until six and told them I had to leave immediately, and stupidly promised I’d be back at around 6.45pm. Meanwhile someone had called Jonathan to say they needed a room and I rushed down to issue it.

Down at the P.A room, cold sweat started to penetrate out from the skin’s pores; once again, someone had dismantled the cable drums. However, setting up the sound system was smooth and fast when the equipments were still available in the room.

Halfway through, I was call upon by an officer, who tried to help 2LT Daniel Tan to borrow laptop. I finished the guard mounting steadily and rushed back to open up the theatrette again. It was at 7pm when the contractors decided to go for dinner and told me they would be back in half an hour’s time. I rushed down to the specs mess and it was already closed. Since I didn’t drive, it was impossible for me to leave the camp and return in time, thus had to skip my dinner when I was already having gastric pain two hours ago.

Actually they didn’t deserve to be helped. They were late for twenty minutes. Only one of them was friendly, behaving more like a teenager in his 35th year of life; the other three didn’t care to smile at me even though I had tried hard to make myself look pleasant in my shabbiness.

As for politeness, they could have, same like other contractors, asked if I’d need them to help me get dinner or, at the end of the day, a ride at least to the MRT station – they didn’t. What made me hang on was the fact that the theatrette had to be done somehow, not for the sake of AVA or TRMS, but SI – I regretted though.

Just when I was about to leave camp, Jonathan and Shengyang were on their way down on cab. I didn’t like to trouble others so much; no doubt it was good to know others were concern about me.

When it’s useless to say, I rather not tell. I can never get away from the hellish place. This moment you scrub my back but when I walk away you try to stab me. Sometimes I just can’t understand smiles can be so fake.

I did try to explain, the dowagers refused to listen more.

I just wish things can be solved in a peaceful way, let me leave and not flame up before they get overboard. Then, when I walk past I can still smile and give a little cheer.

There’s no sense of belonging. My conscience tells me not to work hard for selfish creatures.

Why should I care for friends who only care for me to clean up the muddy ground after they step on? Isn’t it better to sever ties once and for all? So many passer-bys have advised me to speak up.

Like what Lieutenant Galen has reminded, what make a place are the people. And now the people are suffocating me.