Passenger

4 days and 3 nights gave me the name of supernumerary, or Advanced Drills Instructor. All this at the expense of burning about 3/4 of my march hols, which was supposed to be spent rushing accumulated homework. NCC HQ still needs improvement. CADETS need improvement; they need to have more common sense. CLTs need improvement; they need to be free from prejudice, and free from the love of being an asshole. These people need serious, drastic change if the governing and organization of NCC is ever going to improve. RSM can't do it by himself, and these people are just dragging him down. Some things need to be synthesised, not regurgitated. And people need to LEARN how to do this.

Anyways, I experienced the empty, meaningless aftertaste of completing an NCC course, as usual, but I just don't know what keeps me going back to HQ to endure such torturous regimes. No, I don't love pain lol, but I do enjoy NCC. It's bittersweet. And just to draw the line, its more psychological than physical. Hard to explain nevertheless, because you'll probably never know it unless you're a cadet.

By the way, a "supernumerary" is defined in the Oxford Dictionary as an extra; a substitute; or a walk-on(actor). For something that's supposed to be most impressive and prestigious to attain, this defintion hardly does it any justice. Or maybe, the idiot who suggested this term for use in NCC never heard of a dictionary. I guess that's why they renamed the course ADC for Advanced Drills Course two years ago.

Ok, enough of lamentations. Tonight, I'm surprised my tired brain actually managed to come up with something. It's a simple and honest poem, actually written to be a song. It's quite short now, just two verses and the chorus, so I'll probably expound on it next time. If I might ask, just let a spontaneous, soothing melody ring in your heart as you read it (note that I classify the genre of the type of music ;P) It might make more sense.

Passenger

I’ve been driving round these broken dreams
in circles right from the start
I can’t believe that there’s nothing new
now that my gas is running out
I see the trees right up in front of me
waving to my heart
It’s like they are the only everything
that marks my very path.

I need to be the passenger of this flight
Of this fading wooden decadence, that I just can’t deny, yeah
Letting go, I don’t want to see these tears before I die
Because right now, I’m telling you, I step aside.

I step outside to find myself just
drifting in the winds
I need a light because I’m lost
in my sea of memories
This is a search for the only cure
for these wounds that never heal
because I’m holding to something small
my hands can barely feel oh