Do the Hard Thing
A bit different from the usual post.
When I post here I usually try and construct a sort of non-fiction narrative. I reformat and re-sequence excerpts from my notes app and my journal entries, alongside any relevant memory and anecdote.
The final piece of writing doesn't resemble anything too literal or factual, but I wouldn't call it fiction either.
But today, I attempt to write candidly without these processes.
My thesis: moving forward into my army service term, alongside the many moving pieces I find myself caught between.
I usually do a lot of reflecting in the middle of the year. I started this in 2022 as a search, out of some sort of painful unfulfilment. Admittedly, I wasn't in the best state then.
I began a more purposeful reflection in 2023, then the same in 2024.
It's a hard process but I realised there is no end to becoming yourself.
You don't just learn a lesson and find an authentic way to be yourself, living happily from there on out. For better or for worse, we have to adapt everyday, reshape our beliefs, and grow - especially in our youth, more than ever.
Now I'm halfway through 2025, time passed quite fast this year, especially because of the dull routines of army life.
I finished BMT (Basic Military Training) across the last two months.
I've come to the end of my one week block leave, it's sad to leave home for so long again.
I just got my posting a few days ago.
I'll be heading to SCS (Specialist Cadet Course), which will take me another six months, leading nicely into the end of the year. I will graduate as a specialist within some field in the army (to be determined), with the rank of sergeant.
I recently saw an exhibition set up by my friends, it's funny how we graduate and disperse into seperate paths so quick.
Without mandatory military service, I see how boundless one can truly be with their studies, interests and careers. The passion is quite intoxicating, it's very encouraging to see.
And yet, I will have to put these pursuits on hold for the next 1½ years.
Some artists are fine with this, I think I relied on my art as a crutch for survival for too long, and I suffer the repercussions now: a withdrawal symptom somewhat.
I would've went for being a regular soldier, with a little more free time than a commander, it would make sense to find more time to pursue my art. Still, I chose this path.
I didn't want to live with a decision that would constantly itch me to look over my shoulder at some forgone path and to then ask myself "what if?"
I do not necessarily want to be a commander, even calling it a need feels off.
I know the time away from art will cause a losing of myself along the way. I remembered trying to paint after my BMT concluded, and for the first three days of my leave, I could produce nothing of desirable quality.
My time away from art will hurt me. I know this because it already has.
Ultimately, these are fears, plain and simple. All the more I decided to go forward with my decision for command school. It's like walking up the stairs instead of taking a lift. It's like taking a longer route home. It's choosing to have supper outside past your curfew. It's standing under the sun and rain when there's shelter within arm’s reach.
I know I will be tired, maybe regretful.
But its easy to fail and blame the circumstances. Not to credit these circumstances as invalid, but I want to see simply if I can. And if I can, then fine, I'll do it.
To be an artist without my art.
I think my grandfather's passing during the midst of BMT affected me a great deal. To me, my training had concluded the day he left. Each day back in camp felt like extra time in a sense. The days were filled with a blandness that I couldn't engage myself with meaningfully. I grieve behind my sweat and gun, my army green hides my vulnerability.
I also know that war is imminent. Political tensions and conflict have been on a steady rise. You've seen the reposts on Instagram, the articles, the news. I need to say nothing and you know which wars and genocides I refer to. Wars are over resources; the world attempting to redistribute its power, it is scarring itself. Every nation and group feels the effects, some more than others. As a soldier these are my concerns, my dreams and allegiances hold no weight when an enemy force arrives, or when we find ourselves deployed elsewhere.
In the small death within my home, and the large death occurring oceans away, I confronted the natural unfairness of life and I had to swallow the bullet and accept.
So what does this all mean? In the face of death, pursuing boundless passion, time with family, I want to do a hard thing and see myself through it. Climb the mountain and swim the ocean so to speak.
I will try and deny myself this immediate satiation of making art. Speaking realistically, individual pursuit is a privilege, I discovered this during BMT. Life and death feel more precious. Edible food, drinkable water and breathable air: these are precious too. Family, kinship, holding out kindness to the self and to others, that is strength and that is above any physical feat.
Reject my habits or my nature, whatever you may call it.
I want to fight without childish rage at an unfair world, but with a resolve to live on in said world.
I don't think what I am doing is noble or anything of deep purpose.
I don't expect a big moral lesson or a profound awakening.
Money wasn't a factor, I think bringing honour to my family isn't really a strong factor either.
I think I know I am scared, and I want to face this fear; to look at the needle while it enters my skin. I want to survive and ultimately live.
My eyelids fell for a moment, I think I will sleep now.
Good sleep is another precious privilege.
I'll finish my army service on 2nd February of 2027. Till then I will try and climb this mountain as best I can, I will tell you what I find when I'm there.
