I lost count. Yesterday was Day 4. Today's Day 5. Only a week to bookout. With that thought, my depression recedes a little.

Then I run through all the Hong Kong faces, and I'm depressed again. Stupid of me. Gotta learn how to stop thinking about them.

Dad sent me Dong Dong's* number. Said I could look for him over the weekend. I just might. Maybe.

Orientation Officer's giving a lecture about managing emotions later. I'd like to hear what he has to say. Might help.

Oh, one little interesting detail I wanted to note. After four days of not using facial cream, my pimples have gone down significantly. Maybe the sweat is helping.
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Called home, apparently I'm staying at Dong Dong's house over the weekend. Juliet** cried yesterday and Marty's been having bad temper tantrum's (Mom said). They miss me. I miss them too. Damn, I miss them something bad.

The two little ones go on vacation next week, they're gonna visit me soon. I can't wait for that. Really. God, I wish I was going to college instead of training in here.

Apparently if we fail the third physical test, we get confined. Fuck.

The OO's talk wasn't helpful at all.

By the way, the IASAS*** pen is running out, so I'm using the pen Mom gave me.

I try not to think about my depression. Sometimes I even feel happy. But then we get a little free time, my mind wanders and suddenly I feel like crying. I've never felt like tearing up so often before. God...

I need a girlfriend or something. Some kind of emotional support.
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Okay, good news. Remedial training only keeps you for one day. Also, I'm getting more used to it here. Getting more friends, more distractions. Dong Dong still hasn't called back, his phone is never on. Maybe I ought to call Dad and tell him.
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Okay, Dong Dong's not back in Singapore yet. That explains the phonecalls.

Marty apprently keeps asking when they're going to visit me. Soon. Soon.

Found out that Sunday is filled with footdrills. All through the damn afternoon. Shit. Gonna be a long long day.

Okay nevermind, four-hour footdrill tomorrow. Hell is closer than we think.

Oh, and we found a good way to distract ourselves. Telling ghost stories. More something interesting than something scary. It passes the time.

*Dong Dong's a childhood friend of mine. We were really close when I was in Singapore. Haven't seen him in years.

**Juliet's my little sister. Nine this year. I named her too.

***A pen I received when attending the IASAS MUN 2005 Conference in Manila.

I really don't wanna be here. Really. I just realized that I haven't been happy for a single moment here. I dread coming back after the first bookout.

Called home again, told them about booking out Friday. Looks like I'm gonna stay at Mr. Yu's ho use.

Bought insurance today. It's a good deal. I'd give up that just to go home though. Better, to redo my Senior Year. God, I hate it here.

I don't know if this is just homesickness or what. Gotta go take a shot and then we're running 2K.

I want out.

Maybe I'll go talk to the Platoon Sergeant later. See if there's a way out.

I don't know WHAT I'm, gonna do when Nora leaves.

Also, I don't know if I mentionied this earlier or not. Basic Training is three months, not two. 13 weeks. It's less bleak if you assume you can book out every week. Please let it be so.

I can't believe I'm only on Day 3.
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Had our shots just now. One in each arm. Stick. Bang. Not formalities whatsoever.

Three vaccines. The medic warned us about side-effects and allergies. I found myself wisihing I'd suffer. Damn this overly competent body of mine.

2km run coming up. I'm upset...

Dunno if I'll have time to call home tonight.
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It's mild lightning outside right now, so the 2.4km is cancelled. By the Company Sergeant Major's orders, we are to "go back and sleep". I'd rather call home.

I've noticed that I've started to write more, and my ramblings have gotten longer. I dunno if I actually have more to say or if it's just a way to get my feelings out.

Found out a few encouraging things and a few discouraging things. Apparently our Platoon Sergeant is really nice and our last week of Basic Training is basically an extended leave. Which is good. And if you factor out all the weekend passes, then we only have seven weeks of training before graduation.

However, it's apparently an urban legend that posted infantrymen can go home everyday*. Only clerks do that and I can't be a clerk because I'm combat fit. Also, since our platoon is a slacker platoon now, we're going to get EXTRA hell when we get back.

Perfect.

Mom still hasn't called. She probably doesn't have her cellphone again**. Fuck. I'd kill for a familiar voice right now.
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Didn't have any more time to write yesterday. Filling in now. We squeezed in that 2.4km right before dinner. Six laps, I forced myself to run through most of it. Not too bad, I landed in about the middle. Last few seconds of the last round my arms tingled and I was dizzy. Pretty sure I lost my vision for a bit.

Had a long talk with mom (finally). We basically said the same things. We don't have much else to say to each other anymore.

*I was told that after I graduated and am posted to a unit, it'd just be a normal eight to five job.
**My cellphone here can't make long distance calls. So I have to SMS my parents and ask them to call me instead.

Halfway through the week now. Lost a pair of white socks already*. Platoon mate gave me one of his extras.

Woke up this morning and felt sick to the bo ne. It was the worst at breakfast. Felt like throwing up. Got better though.

Had our first inspection today. It was all right, except I almost fell asleep on my feet.

That was fixed real fast when we drilled the rest of the morning. Our first real drill.

Physical exertion today was pretty bad. I can't keep up**. Gotta find my own time to train.

Gotta go now. Write more later if I can. If not, same routine.
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Three hours of doing nothing. Read "Night Watch". That book won't last long, and I have to figure out how to get it to Alexa***.

Called home again. Figured out a way to SMS, so communication with home should be easier now. They're still working on the housing thing. If nothing else, I'll stay in Mr. Yu's^ place for the first weekend.

Another week and a half left. Damn.
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We have a singing session next and we have a little time. So, a few thoughts. Have to go see the Company Commander later. pro-- got called to the CO's office. He explained a few things. Apparently MDC^^ auditions are really late in the year and very difficult. Cross that bridge when I come to it.

Anyway. Found out a few things. Apparently the ral hell starts after our first bookout. Also, our company is apparently one of the tougher companies. Perfect.

Still a week and a half to go. Didn't seem like that long when I came in. Now it feels like a lifetime.

The guys are screwin' around. They're nice guys, but so completely different from me. All local. All older.

I've got my physical test tomorrow. Better rest well tonight. I've got muscle aches all over the place. I can hardly keep up already...

*I have a nasty habit of being sloppy and losing things a lot.

**I'm not in the best physical shape. Not fat, but not fit either.

***Alexa's a really good friend of mine who's still in Hong Kong. She lent me a book and told me to send it back to her as a way to keep me in touch.

^Mr. Yu's a friend of my father's. I'm typing this from his place right now.

^^Music Drama Corps. I've been acting and doing theater/film since I was six. It's my passion and my goal.

A little downtime now. Maybe 20 minutes. Less for me, gotta go see the Platoon Sergeant. The homesickness is a little better today. I discovered that if I don't think about it, I'm fine. But it's difficult not to think about all the stuff I left behind. All the people.

The guys here are nice, but that only does so much. Gotta go now, write more later.
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Didn't have tim to write, filling this in on day 3. This was an easy day. Made my first successful calls. Nora told me to text her this weekend.

Called home. Almost cried when I heard Marty*. Mom and Dad basically told me the same old same old. They're gonna arrange something for me outside**. Thank God.

*Marty's my little brother. Seven years old this year. I've watched him grow up, I even named him.

**Recruits get to book out and go home over the weekends. For Saturday night, at least. Since I don't live here, I would've been forced to stay in the Camp. Something I did NOT want to do.

I don't have much time, just wanted to jot something down before I left.

First day, not good but not that bad either. People are friendly.

I'm homesick. I've never been homesick before, but I am now. I'm desperate for a familiar voice. Called Nora*, but she didn't pick up.

She can't be there for me ALL the time. Not fair to ask that much of her.

That's it, gotta go. Lights out.

Write more tomorrow.

*I met Nora through another friend of mine while still in Hong Kong. She's one of my only friends in Singapore and she leaves for college in August.

I guess I should start by explaining a few things about myself.

Number One: I am not a Singaporean.

That may be what my passport says, but it's not true. I wasn't born in Singapore and I only lived there for three years. From age seven to age nine. That's eight years ago.

Number Two: I have no history of depression.

During the course of my blog it may sound like I am clinically depressed or just plain Emo. I want you to understand that I am most certainly not the latter and hopefully not the former. I've always been an optimistic, reasonable person. I've always prided myself in being sociable and open.

Number Three: I am in a situation I don't want to be in.

This will become clear soon enough.

Anyway, my name is Marcus. I became eighteen years old as of April this year. I've lived in Hong Kong for the past three years, attending Hong Kong International School. I graduated on Friday, and on Monday I was being sworn in to the Army of a nation to which I owe no loyalty. Singapore.

I made a choice, I want to make it clear that I had a choice. Two years ago my parents sat me down and asked me to choose. The Singaporean citizenship or the American one. Both were great passports for convenient travel (for that's what we did. Alot.), but the American passport entailed vast amounts of taxes whilst the Singaporean passport required two years of my life.

I made a decision. I made the right decision instead of the selfish decision. In that one moment I signed away two of the prime years of my life.

I've never had the habit of keeping a journal/diary. But since day one in Basic Training I've found it necessary to keep me sane. However, suffering in silence has never been one of my strong points. My diary will not be just for me to keep, it will also be my story to tell.

There are certain things that you, dear reader, are not privilged to know. Too private, or in violation of security code. I'll be editing those little morsels out. Otherwise what you'll get here is a daily account of my thoughts and such during basic training.

Note, however, that I will only be updating on a weekly basis, not daily. Because I am only given Internet access when I book out of camp over the weekends. So there. On to the story.

Enjoy.