#lots of uncertainties still. lots of Bullshit. im here for another week or so. just to try to help out.

[silkylious]

Limbo (Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: bakugo katsuki x female reader warnings: heavy angst, eventual tiny bit of fluff at the end

omf this request is so nice i feel so bad that my writing is literally garbage in this, but thank you sm for requesting this!! <3 and im so sorry if i didn’t do your request justice (i legit hate my writing here :’))

To say the state of your relationship was unbearable would be the euphemism of the century.

Your thoughts often ran amuck, always hopelessly crawling back to that one despaired curiosity; wondering if he shared the same sentiment about your wishy-washy “friends” status as you did. He probably didn’t. That’s the seemingly unshakable brick wall that would inevitably dead-end your lovesick daydreams, each and every time. Though when his roughed-up hands linger on your skin a millisecond too long, when his steeled stare melts, hard rubies morphing into blazing lava pits, threatening to mar your very heart and soul with their scorching intensity –you’re not exactly certain you’d mind that– that’s when a flicker of something ignites within you. Hope, longing, doubt. Whatever it is, it terrifies you. Because you’re agonizingly aware of what that entails. He’s got you hook, line and sinker, but torturously he refuses to do anything with that. Almost like pulling someone in for a hug then abruptly and without explanation stopping midway, he keeps you at arm’s length. Not too far, not too close. And how that cycle destroyed you.

Katsuki was the type to jump into action and ask questions later. Except a lot of the times when these questions pertain to his own emotions, he didn’t even try to answer them, opting to shove them to the corners of his psyche, collecting dust, steadily accumulating until they become too much to ignore and he (sometimes quite literally) explodes. It’s a vicious loop that he could never break away from, he’d even come to find a sordid comfort in it. His coping mechanism was by no means healthy, far from it, but he’d grown familiar to the toxicity.

Katsuki couldn’t make heads nor tails of his feelings for you. Whenever he impulsively threw himself into the lion’s den that was your affection, caught in the moment, in the glimmer of genuine adoration in your eyes, he never came back the same. A piece of his heart would irreversibly split off and reside in the palm of your hand, he was scared that nothing would be left of it, that he wouldn’t be able to regain his bearings until it was too late. You so effortlessly juggled with his feelings, all with a single smile, it scared him that you had so much power over the fluttery sensation in his chest and yet, in the moment, it felt good. It felt so good to indulge in whatever fucky feeling was messing with his head, to let you hold him in the depths of obscurity with all prying eyes shut and what little words exchanged hushed. It felt so alleviating to feel skin on his own (for once not in battle), gentle, comforting but not coddling. It was unspoken between you that you were both more than friends. You knew it, he knew it. Neither of you ever mentioned it. What neither of you knew, however, was how far the other’s feelings ran.

But as high as your silent love made him feel, he crashed back down into the concrete when he was left to his own devices. Without your intoxicating scent, distracting touches fogging his rationality, Katsuki had all the time in the world to overthink. And overthink he did. His pride picked apart the delicate flowering in his heart, ripping it petal by petal until nothing was left but a garden of beautifully withered leaves, a condemnation to what he considered a weakness.

Katsuki was a taker by every sense of the word. Basking in your wispy adoration, only to brush you aside in favor of focusing on academics once he’d had his fill of your love. It was sickening.

Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t outright confessed to him, maybe that’s what soothed the overbearing guilt that crawled up his throat whenever he saw that dejected face of yours, the one you made because of him. If your feelings for him ran deep, surely you would have said something by now, at least that’s what he thought. Or more precisely, that’s the excuse his mind conjured up in hopes of easing his conscious, trying to convince himself that self that yes, he was hurting you, but at least he wasn’t hurting you that bad. He was infinitely aware that this doesn’t put him in any sort of moral high ground, nor does it justify his actions, but, again, it was a last-ditch effort to relieve his anguish if just by a little bit, even if he knew that excuse was bullshit.    

Surely he knew, there’s no way in hell someone as hawk-eyed as him didn’t notice the tyranny he held over the porcelain pitter-pattering of your heart, didn’t notice the fleeting, love-filled glances you sent his way. This was getting ridiculous, you were starting to believe he was taking some twisted sense of pleasure from your heartache, but he wouldn’t do that, right? He didn’t derive some sick kick out of having you indefinitely under his thumb, at his beck and call… right? A few months ago, you would have answered those uncertainties with a resounding “No!” defending his cruel behavior till the bitter end. But now…

Now you weren’t so sure.

And yet you still found yourself in his dorm, on his bed. It was supposed to be another study gathering, but one thing was glaringly missing. Y’know… the gathering. Kirishima was out training and he hadn’t bothered to invite the rest of his brain-dead, self-proclaimed squad. And that’s how you found yourself alone. With your best friend and secret crush. Just dandy.

Your hands were restless. Pulling at the seams of his blanket, cracking your own fingers, picking up your pencil for a brief moment of concentration, answering one or two questions only to drop it back on the mattress again and fidget some more. Katsuki wasn’t fucking blind, and your unease was ticking him off. Though he surprisingly hadn’t said a thing about it just yet, he was clearly nearing his wit’s end. His silence didn’t prevail for much longer, the meek sigh and not so subtle glance you chanced his way being his tipping point.

“What.” It came out as a statement, a demand rather than a question. What was he demanding? He hadn’t thought of that yet, his temperamental limbs already taking the wheel and pressing on the gas without a destination in mind, just being short fused for the sake of it. Was it even his place to be making demands in this situation? Katsuki knew the answer to this one like the back of his hand, a solid no.

“What…?” You really had no idea what Bakugo was expecting with a question like that. He still had the audacity to roll his eyes.

“The hell’s got you so jumpy?”

“It’s nothing…” It was a lot more than nothing, that’s for sure.

“Don’t lie to me, (name). What the fuck is up with you?” Ah, there it is again. That look. His words were as cut-throat as ever, and his mouth was still pulled into that seemingly permanent scowl. But his eyes conveyed something that was whole worlds asunder from his harsh tone. Golden brows furrowed as they usually were, though unusually upturned just the slightest bit. You despised that look. It ensured that you’ll forever be caught in his grasp, forever there for him when he never spared you the time of day.

Your lungs constricted by a force of gorgeously wretched agony. Katsuki wasn’t fair when he bared his soul to you like this, it filled you with such fervent euphoria that torrefied its way through your being, singeing your veins with luminous infatuation. And it hurt. Because you knew he’d cage himself right up as soon as the moment of vulnerability perished.

A crystalline sheen permeated your vision. This wasn’t going to end well.  

“I said it’s nothing,” Your voice raised. You hadn’t meant for the words to be as frosty as they came out, but it seemed like your subconscious was utterly done with the tedium of heartbreak he keeps putting you through.

“What is fucking wrong with you? I was literally just asking why you were being so goddamn obnoxious today and then you go and make a big fuckin’ deal out of nothing!”

“Well, maybe I’m just fucking tired of giving you everything I have and getting nothing in return, Katsuki!”

Your chest rose and fell with each scalding breath that entered your lungs. The blood through your veins was pumping. Never had you been confrontational, and your sudden outburst wasn’t exactly welcome to your system. You wanted to vomit. This was not how you wanted things to turn out, you absolutely needed to leave, distance yourself from the emotional strain he was inflicting on you.  

Without taking notice of the panicked glint in the cherry red of his irises, you bolted out of the suddenly claustrophobic room, leaving Katsuki to stare at his agape door before flickering his unfocused attention to your supplies still laying on his bed.

Katsuki erupted time and time again, with you being as patient as a receiving end could ever be. It’s specifically because of your godly patience that he never considered what he would do once you erupted.

With your back sliding down your dorm room door, and little friction stopping your descent, you wondered and maybe even wished he’d call after you, come banging on your door with bristling apologies on the tip of his tongue. However, the jarring reality was very clear to you. You’d decided on that day, with your head buried in your tear-stained pillow, that these were the last tears you’d ever shed on him, that you were going to put him through the same wringing hell he’d put you through.

You were going to ignore Bakugo Katsuki’s existence just like he’d periodically ignored yours.

The following week had been bleak at best and excruciatingly bitter at its worst for the both of you. It was so strange having to adjust to the absence of the other, even if your company more often than not had been a quiet one, it was company nevertheless. The most grueling part though, was your shared friend group. They’d noticed that something was obviously awry, but since neither of you said a thing about it, they decided it would be best if they didn’t either. The awkward dead silences during lunch were still purgatory to behold. But after a few more slow paced days, the sun seemed to shine bright again. For you, that is.

You didn’t realize how much of your schedule revolved around Bakugo until he was completely out of it. How much time you spent with him, dreading him, thinking about him… him, him, him. He’d consumed your thoughts from the first sparks of dawn till the hallows of dusk. You had so much free time now that he was out of the picture, it was crazy. The more time you spent on yourself, on your hobbies, getting to know other classmates outside of your immediate friend circle, the duller the ache in your chest. Until it was but a static buzz. Yet you couldn’t deny that, with time, your fury had mellowed out, leaving behind a cold loneliness you couldn’t elude whenever your aimless stare landed on him, almost like it was drawn to him by muscle memory.

He was the exact opposite.

You’d think the throbbing within him whenever you finally gazed his way then instantaneously looked in the opposite direction would knock come modicum of sense into his stubborn head. But nope. And seeing you thrive without him only cemented what he already knew. He really was no good for you. So much so that it barely took anytime for you to readjust to the lack of him in your life, and not only did you adjust, you were the best he’s ever seen you both mentally and academically. In the first week of you ditching him completely, his bruised ego kept him for reaching out to you, but now, seeing that elated grin on your face –the one that had been gradually dwindling over the past few months– he didn’t want to take your newfound happiness away, he’d figured he’d done you more than enough harm already.

Heart heavy with reluctance, Katsuki made the decision to give up on your relationship. Deciding to wordlessly cheer you on from the sidelines and watch you bloom, flourishing into the person he robbed you of being for a chunk of your life, though whenever your spring hit, it would be without him. Until some day in the future where his pride wasn’t as suffocating, where he could genuinely, wholeheartedly repent his grievances and only hope for your forgiveness.

Kirishima never took Bakugo for a quitter, hell would freeze over before he even thought such a thing. So this was certainly a shock. What was even more shocking ­– and overwhelmingly concerning– was the fact that Katsuki had willingly, on his own accord confided in him, and he’d, in his own roundabout way, taken accountability for being a gigantic douche to you. As much as the redhead respected his friend’s decision to stay clear of you, he couldn’t help but wish you’d just talk to one another for once. Kirishima really was a saint, having to listen to two idiots ramble about how much they miss the other.

“Listen, man. I know you feel bad and all that, but maybe you should just talk to her? I’m sure she’d like some closure on this just as you do, even if that doesn’t mean things will go back to the way they were.” Eijirou tried to reason, praying to whatever higher being out there that Katsuki would just get the fuck over himself and communicate with you.

“Fuck no. That’s not fucking happening, shitty hair,” Kirishima rolled his eyes at the oh so affectionate nickname, thoroughly done with his best friend’s melodrama. Welp, I guess there’s only one thing left to try. He heaved internally, mentally and physically preparing himself for Bakugo’s tantrum.

“Well, you know that if you won’t talk to her, others will, right? I heard some guys saying they’re gonna ask her ou–”

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t give a rat’s ass who asks her out!” He definitely did. Eijirou hid his smile. Checkmate.

“Whatever you say, dude.”

Later that day, three distinctly powerful knocks woke you up. Needless to say, you didn’t think that night would end up with you and Katsuki staring each other down, seated on your bed at one in the morning. Words got stuck in his throat, so he just… noiselessly watched your face, as if trying to telepathically ram his constipated emotions into you, in hopes that you’d make sense of them. Obviously, that didn’t work.

“Did you come banging on my door at one in the morning just to stare at me, Bakugo? I mean I know I’m pretty but still–”

“Shuddup.” Not really the best thing to say to you after weeks of radio silence. You were about to make another salty remark, but he opened his mouth first.

“I fucked up,” The fact that he was acknowledging he was at fault was… something. But that wasn’t nearly enough to pay off the debt off turmoil he’d caused you.

“No shit.” You replied without missing a beat. The ice that tinged your words caught him off guard, but he really shouldn’t have been surprised. He sighed, knowing he’d have to strip himself of everything, including his pride (especially his pride) down to his very core, to have a go at a second chance.

And so, he did.

He poured his everything out for you to observe, without an ego film distorting his words. Syllables reeked of muted agony, he really had rid himself of anything and everything that wasn’t his deepest soul. He finally offered you himself just as you had done countless times before. Katsuki swore that his heart would –and always has been– explicitly yours, he’d roar that fact at the constellations above if you so wished him to. And while it would take a while to heal from coruscating blisters he’d inflicted, you were more than content mending and welting your heart with his.  

[mattyslittleworld]

dead mans coffee

July / 2020

Just woke up in my front seat, at a rest stop in Tennessee. First thing I saw was my ALL WILL SUFFER tattoo on my leg. A constant reminder of a different person. Tomorrow I’m getting coffee with Skrillex’s right hand man in Nashville, and I’m nursing a cold coffee in the heat watching this crazy lightning shoot across the skyline. It looks like the end of the world. Or some fucked up Lucero song. I must’ve pulled over for a second and closed my eyes and just dropped dead for hours while parked, I’m on the way to my hotel. 

I am sitting in a diner on broadway in Nashville, TN. Nursing another shitty coffee booking meetings. As the texts come in I ignore them because they are covering the screen and distracting me from reading and studying how to properly sell my soul to the devil at the crossroads In Mississippi. 

Clarksdale, Mississippi

12:30 am

Where Robert Johnson, Bob Dylan, and now, Matty Carlock, sold their souls to the devil. 

December / 2020

Sitting in my home, in Hollywood, CA. I have the window open, and I hear the subtle sound of LA breathing, cars passing on the boulevard, sirens off in the distance, and a vinyl record of mine spinning at the lowest volume possible for me to still hear yet ignore it. I feel calm and at peace, although, it seems like a parallel feeling is war, confusion, imposter syndrome, abandonment, and skeptical. How could these two umbrellas of emotion coexist? Its very interesting. Ive been recording so much music that has nothing to do with my artist project. Its been liberating to put that aside for something greater. A new focus. Leaving artistry a vessel solely for extreme self expression and cathartic release. 

July / 2020

Winding the day down, 10:30pm. With an open tab that reads “Tigers Jaw holiday show” - on pause. I open my Mac book on my couch, ready to go through stems and ratchet strip club beats, and it catches my eye. I press play and it leads me down a rabbit hole. I find myself watching “Never Saw It Coming” right into “Chemicals” / live in Boston. Like lightning it struck through my entire body. Maybe it was the 2 hour long conversation with Andy? And the memories we were trading. The bond we have over hard times, innocence, violence, literal blood on the pavement, years of freezing in the winter....nowhere to go. The people that were around - we made forever memories to these two songs. I right away, made a playlist that consists of “The Sun, I Saw Water, Chemicals, Never Saw It Coming, and Planes”. On top of that I found the live acoustic set they recorded and put out. When I was young on DIY tours, sleeping on floors, dirty as shit, poor as shit, a human being at the very best.....the uncertainty of my near future was so bleak. I remember Title Fight came out with their record “Shed” - and the song “where am I?” would lay me down on long drives, or on the floor. I’d watch white lines pass one by one by one into the abyss of nothing. 

The line 

“Another floor

A different ceiling than the night before

Where am I?

While you’re back home”

Missing my girlfriend at that current time, leaving, and just laying on a strangers floor thinking where am I while you’re back home? What am I doing? Maybe there’s nothing only this moment?

On the tigers jaw live EP they covered this acoustic and it’s everything right now. I am fortunate to live a block away from the sunset strip - and I grabbed my skateboard and just bolted into the night. 

This SO SPECIFIC FEELING of these songs. That nobody in this environment will ever understand. It’s so beautiful. It’s so real. It’s so raw. It’s exactly what I need right now - as the past 3 weeks I’ve been living here have moved faster than the past 4 years. A loss of identity easily awaits you. It’s like you fight your whole life for that moment, to get to where you dream of, to get a shot. Scrape and crawl. And then reset. Since I’ve been living in Hollywood my day to day has been a huge mirror for me. The parts of myself I’ve been trying out run have caught me. Maybe all of this could coexist? 

March 2nd / 2021

Spring is here. Its 75 degrees in LA and theres this new thing I noticed while driving around…..the overbearing smell of flowers in the air. It sounds like a movie. Its fucked up cause It felt like a funeral in my car. I was like what the fuck is happening? It smells like a small funeral in here….are my dreams dying? Am I dying? Is punk dead? Okay its just a Ryan gosling movie out here I guess. Whatever lets go. Here’s some hatrebreed. But the windows are down. My mood is different. My spirit is lifted, which ive been desperate to say. I automatically get punched in the guts with the feeling of driving so fucking fast, and blasting title fight. Skateboarding. Looooooooooong drives with fucked up friends to out of state shows no one will be at. Im listening to Stab by Title Fight - off the Shed LP. What a specific time in my life this brings back. That I usually talk about on this little throw up blog often. Spring is such a pivotal time in my life every year. Since covid shows stopped - human decency stopped - community stopped - my natural habitat was taken from me, and all of my friends and family. I remember living in New York in 2011. At the New Yorker. I was studying at the Institute Of Audio Research to be a janitor in my home town. Because that’s what they teach you. Instead of studying compression, and listening to washed up hacks talk to me about music, I would walk out my building onto 8th ave. B Line it Penn Station. Get on the LIRR and ride that shit right into the best LI shows every night I could. Id meet all my friends from Jersey / NYC / Philly and even Baltimore because it was so common to make it a priority to no matter what, drive hours on end to support a hardcore shows and to not lose touch with the hundreds around the country that you call family. Drive to Richmond for a shows on a Monday night, go off, hit a diner after with your new found tribe, then drive home, be back at 6 am, and just stumble into your bullshit job with a black eye or scratches all over you. It was all worth it. Probably quit that job anyway to go on tour with your friends band and live as gypsies for the entire summer too. Spring embodies this spirit for me. Church parking lots in Doylestown, PA - full of kids from all over the country, who left their problems in their hometown, to just get on the road with their best friends and basically start a new life. It is just amazing how formative those years were for a lot of my friends. I have people I met at shows from all over the country messaging me always checking in, and supporting, and sometimes it feels like I know them better than my first cousins, aunts and uncles. We were at war together. We fought against the world together. We found ourselves together. We created shit from nothing. Determination and passion. Oh no….Planes by Tigers Jaw just came on. You know the vibe. This shit just hits so different now as a pop / hip hop producer. This PA scene, mixed with NJHC, just stood me up and gave me confidence to have my own voice, my own thoughts, and to fight back. Something about being in a shitty car and it smells like dirty vans and like…..axe to cover up the smell. BELTING Basement and car moshing and almost driving off a bridge. Listen. I know every single blog is about this. But fuck you fight me. ITS CALLED SELF EXPRESSION GRANDMA. SO STRAP INTO YOUR BOOT THINGS AND ENJOY THE RIDE TO NOWHERE. Its been crazy living in LA. I live directly on Hollywood BLVD, on the Walk Of Fame. Where I was almost killed two weeks ago over someones gang that my ass is not in. My guy looked at me and said YO YOU MATTY? And I was listening to Taylor swift in my headphones walking back from Starbucks and it was so funny how different my energy was. I was like bro can you kill me already dude because these Taylor tones are so good that they gunna just end up killing me anyway. So perfect timing. I think the guy was mad at my friend to say the least lol. But every night its loud 808’s, the sounds of the city, amazing energy, and neon lights shining in from lit up billboards off the BLVD. Its such a culture shock for me. I feel like im too aggressive just from being east coast. But its just what it is. It took me a little to adapt to being in sessions and meetings with seasoned people in this industry who have major cuts and recognition. But I just learned to double down on myself, and be as authentic as I possibly can be. Theres nothing like crushing writing sessions in the pop realm, then turning off my shit, unplugging, and run into the night with my skateboard and old punk records. It’s almost like my own secret that is becoming my blood. I haven’t been communicating with the ones who like my music, have interest in what im doing, come to my shows etc - since I touched down here….I just unplugged….started writing HEAVY and decided to dedicate months to getting better, learning, becoming smarter, discovering a vision that’s much broader than what were sold, finding myself, making sure my wisdom is parallel to my age - if not wise beyond my years. A lot of artists and bands SING, PLAY, PERFORM, PROMOTE. But I have decided to WATCH, ATTEND, and LISTEN. Everynight I sit down with tea, unplug, and spin records on my turntable…in the dark, in my living room, alone….all kinds of records. From The National, to Springsteen, to Title Fight, to Hendrix, to the rare Troublemaker LP and 7” I have…..Sharon Van Etten, Jesse Malin…..ugh. Its just bliss. Pure bliss. Right now im drinking coffee and bouncing from listening to Into It Over It and American Football. I spent all last night rapping my ass off, mixing, and singing ref vocals for other people. It was so fun. Im finding a lot of my new material is this spirit im talking about - but over hip hop production. I want to tell my life story and combat the stereotypes of modern rap and pop music with true intentions and unique tones of untold stories that press, radio, and this market usually doesn’t get fed. Ive also realized a lot of music I was promoting over the past year to come out (prior to the pandemic) hasn’t come out….and I know people are questioning that….what is happening? So before covid I had German solo dates booked - and then I was going to the UK right after. I have a bunch of single drops lined up with music videos. Some you can guess with who. And then the pandemic hit and I canceled everything and decided to pivot my focus into my passion for songwriting and production, instead of sitting around “waiting for shows to come back.” I pretended that shows were never going to come back and doubled down on my career as a producer, that at the time, still is, moving forward at a faster rate than my artist shit. So I packed my shit after offers, and opportunity presented themselves. Touched down on a Tuesday, with meetings that Friday. Off to the races. In sessions that following Monday. Fast forward here we are. Hungry, learning, learnt, turned 30. Looking at the next decade like Mcgregor at the weigh in. Fight ready. Ive learned so much since the fall that all of the music I had planned on releasing, I loaded it back up, tore it apart, and re built it. So its not stale, so its not expired, so its not “then”….so its NOW. Which im so glad I did, and im doing. I don’t think ive been in the booth more. My mind is so stimulated by this wave im on. And its got me in a good place. Now that the spirit of spring is here, my mental health is going to be taking a big leap as well and im going to do everything I can to just flood all of this content. I think Never Meant by American Football is the best song ever made. Me and Mike were talking about doing a song together a few months ago and that would be such a trip for me. 

I wanted to talk about my recent trip to Joshua Tree. I was invited by Christopher Thorn from Blind Melon to live at his studio for a few days to write together. I didn’t really know what to expect. I met him once or twice thru Clinch, and just around the Sea Hear Now circle back east, and I was familiar with No Rain (his hit). We got on the phone, picked a weekend where it’d work for both of us, got some covid tests, and boom. Packed my shit again (right off a flight back from New York, where I shot 3 music videos, and did 1 remote session in 2 fucking days), and drove out to the desert. There is no address so I had a map. It was epic. It was in the desert desert. Like THE DESERT FAM. Coyotes at night, snakes and shit. The air was so dry, your lips would get chapped to let you know death was right around the corner so you better man up baby boy. Beforehand - from all the traveling and flights, and burning myself out on videos and sessions, I found myself listening to a lot of acoustic Nebraska Springsteen type shit. John Moreland, or even like acoustic bayside, Lucero, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits…..just pure music with no samples, not gridded, not sold, no machine, no click, just real live country music inspired by the human condition….of the earth. It was just speaking to my soul…..so when we booked this to get in the room together….man was I ready. I don’t think ive had an experience so fruitful to the soul. And ive played shows in Slovenia, and sipped espresso on a bridge that looked like a painting, staring at subtle mountain tops off in the distance like I was a character in some book. We started working at night and ran it up till like 3 am. As the sun came down the lights off in the distance miles and miles away were so clear because we were just the only life form around….and it would just shine into the studio windows and reflect on the perimeter making it seem like we were surrounded by New York City. It did a lot for my soul to play drums, acoustic, sing, play piano, shred electric, even mix a little. I felt like I made a very fast lifelong friend. Its been a minute since I got on with someone like that. We talked a lot about growing up touring. And wed finish each others sentences regarding topics that ONLY people like us would know. Like Subway being a life line for DIY touring, or the weird strange feelings of comfort from rest stops in the middle of nowhere at 4 am, the rest stop coffee that you get to just make the next 2 hours of the drive into town bearable. But then you see your boy from your band in the other aisle so you throw shit at him. Then you all stumble back into the van/bus and just disappear into the night. This shit was so needed for me. When Id wake up, id make espresso, and just sit out front and listen to Joe Rogan, at this random chair that was behind his studio, facing the mountains. Just endless property waiting to leave you 6 feet in the ground. I sat there and sipped my espresso, and just reflected on the long journey of my career. How many random moments like this ive found myself in since I was 15. In the middle of the desert where Springsteen hangs out with my heroes, off the strength of my songwriting. Or in Romania drinking coffee, fucked off, on a bench far from the venue, by random train lines in the pouring rain by myself. The farthest from humanity I can be. Or the random VFW hall in my head that I don’t even know where it is, with my little punk crew, who all smell like complete shit and cigarettes and soda, fucked off god knows where, just to finger point and sing along to this band we found on myspace that were in OUR hometown the weekend prior singing to our band. Theres just an endless string of memories that can go on forever, with stories that just fulfill a lifetime, of conversations that just make the white lines on I95 move faster. Or just everyone is quiet - reading a book - texting - exhausted from the night prior - and you just ABRUPTLY turn on teenage dream by Katy Perry SOOOO LOUD - take your shirt off and start dropping it like its hot from the passenger front seat, and catch a mid afternoon front flip stage dive into the backseat. From those youthful days of this underground spirit, to existing in a realm of pure monsters of my craft, I truly believe this next decade could co exist and be one for the books. Damn I feel good. Also me and Sasso started a book club called BSU and you can’t be in it because you probably read books and the only rule for our book club besides not speaking about book club is, you can’t read books. Okay im going to go buy a bike right now so I can ride It to Mexico and get abducted by the cartel and sold for bitcoin. FAREWELL EARTHLINGZ. 

[the-entire-population-of-earth]

Amran's NS journey

Basic Military Training (BMT)

Bmt was fucking rushed. Everyone does not know what activities there are gonna be for each day up until the last minute due to the higher upper's uncertainty. But hey at least me and my bunkmates were the most bonded as fuck than the rest due to us always making fun of the commanders and other bunkmates. I was in a leadership batch but one way or another i didnt get to be a commander. Too bad we all split up from each other.

Unit life

1st Battalion Guards

I was posted to 1st battalion singapore guards as a storeman for hq company. I was helping with signal sets. Before guardsman troopers came in, it was a breeze. It was just doing our own branch work and report to the different timings and duties and its all good life. Not as good life though as there is this one specific person who is so fucked up due to his laziness. As a storeman, it was damn easy as it was just using a little labor and then the job is done. Everything was quite certain and routined until the troopers came.

Troopers

When the troopers came, i was involved in a major event. I didn't know how chaotic was the first day but when the days passed, it was chaotic as fuck. They were fucking jealous as hq company had a lot of welfare and the troopers would pinpoint little things such as hq not marching and having more time for ourselves. In my opinion, most of the hq personnels are not combatants so whats the point of us doing what they are doing. But then things settled down as the higher uppers try to ease the tension and shit.

Guards vocation training (GVT)

Gvt was the most fun i had in my ns life. I literally enjoyed every part of it even tho i only participated in the high keys. The high keys were only 10km fast march, 2km swimming and heli rappelling. Fast marches were my toughest one because i cant run for shit. Then came the incident but nevertheless i finished all of it in time for the final fieldcamp and right of passage (ROP). Then came the parade which was satisfying as fuck.

Laundry ic

Since the previous laundry ic had ORD, i had to step up to be the laundry ic. Being the battalion laundry ic made me realise how bad the troopers are being treated and how i was introduced to people that were out of course from being a trooper. By this time, i was considered "lao jiao", old caged bird, who knows the system well and we all knew that the company sergeant major (CSM) cannot fix the duty roster and will always tell us that we last minute have to do duties. Since i am just a storeman, and i don't receive combat pay, why should i have a need to do guard duty whereas there were like around 400+ troopers to do it. It was not as if they have other duties. But as a storeman in hq company, we have like 3 different types of duties; duty clerk, duty storeman and guard duty. Duty clerk is just manning the phone to which we must answer to cater to the caller's needs. Duty storeman is just to open up and close the branch at timings and also make sure all the store keys are accounted for. Guard duty involves to either prowl around the camp or to station at the gate to ensure security for the camp. In my opinion, guard duty isnt needed for a storeman because most of the time we dont handle weapon and we already have 2 other duties. On top of that, as storeman is a combat support service (CSS), we have other responsibilities from handling our stores to issuing items thus the need for guard duty is pointless as it really can clash with our other responsibilities. In my case, it did clash a lot of time due to poor planning for duties from CSM.

Ex lancer (Brunei)

Brunei was chill as fuck, being a laundry ic for just hq company because they have their own laundry department there. As there was not a lot of hq personnel that went outfield, i didn't do much. Out of the 2 weeks there, i only did around less than 10 hours worth of work and then spent the rest of the time catching up on my shows. But the food there was the start of my weight gain because it was really good.

Post brunei

Post brunei was the worst and hectic month because there was audit and then a month after that would be exercise wallaby. Higher uppers hold our bookout times till late afternoon and tasked with bullshit last minute works which they could have done in the time we were in brunei. Then a fucked up person came back and corrupted one specific race of hq. Before Australia, i had only 2 days to pack and attend to my personal commitments with my family and friends.

Ex wallaby ( Australia)

During the flight to Australia, i was in full denial as i didnt have enough time to fulfill my commitments. Australia was fucked up from the day after we landed. There were non stop taskings after taskings due to there were no resources/stores on Australia. We had to unpack and issue out the items while the troopers spent their time resting due to the recent death which lead to safety timeout. We had to load up a lot of the stores to the forklift and then go to the places that are around 1km from each other just because the containers for the stores are far from the issuing point. All of my time was in full denial and might have dragged my branch down but i tried my hard not to. On top of issuing stores and settling accomodations, we also had to take part in operations. The battalion expects us to do all this even though we don't receive enough pay to do all this. There were no such thing as weekend and logistics need to be settled. We actually did overtimed more than usual.

But rest and relax there was good enough for 2 days and 1 night. The motel was ok as i shared with my branch mate and one random guy. I went to a bar for the first time in my life to meet up with my superiors. We talk cocked and did stupid shits to unwind ourselves from the fucking busy exercise.

Post Australia

I was so lazy by that time that i dont even care about shit that i used to care. I even envy all of my friends who are not from the army and are able to see their family by the end of the day everyday. This unit had already thin out all my patience. Other than my opinion, the taskings that im doing are easy and can be done and also our CSM fucked up duties again with fucking last minute duties.

Pre pre ORD

Pre pre ord was the most toxic time as the schedules planned are all so rushed and the CO doesnt even trust the troopers to do a good job hence "more training". With more training comes more store items being issued out, meaning i have to carefully issue the different items. I have changed my jobscope from a laundry IC to a comms store assistant. Its an easy job but everyday they keep asking and exchanging items will make our side of the system to not tally up as i lost track of what is being issued/serviced. Whats more worse is that my QM started playing with off privileges just so we could settle the system. On top of that, the servicing uncles also scolded due to "our poor" paperwork. Honestly at this point in time i wish i wasnt so hardworking so that i set their expectations of me so low. All of these problems arose due to our lack of a regular IC or a regular sergeant. Since we took our past IC for granted, meaning we would always ask him what things there are going to be, like a man behaviour than a commander, we had a lot of things we needed to figure out such as paperworks and who have the rights to the system and who is in charge of us and shit. There was a period of time we dont even know what jobs there are until the last minute we had to do a lot. This uncertainty period really fucked me up because my RQ would always scold me. That's not an issue however but one day I might blow up due to a lot of pressure and thaty really takes a lot of my patience. It was these period that the contractor really blacklisted my unit for poor paperwork but all i can think of is that i most probably wont be working with them in the future Luckily everything finished around later May and then it was a long 1 week break for Hari Raya.

Pre ORD

After hari raya, i had a little shock cause it was a bit of a cooldown period as i was going to almost ord in about less than 2 months. The 2nd month was quite a chill period as i already have 2 understudies with me and rq already told me to slowly hand over to them. But boy, i had the shock of my life during the last month as my QM started saying shit like i never handed over properly to them as they still had a lot of errors. I am here trying my best to teach them but they had a fucking high expectations for me to make sure they will be like me. Thus i tried to ask for offs here and they to "let me go" and they said no. All my other colleagues who were gonna ord near me had already left and im here still stuck. And on top of that literally 2 weeks before ORD, QM gave me 3 extra duties just because of a minor mistake. What a nice way to squeeze out a person. The extra came and it fell on my birthday which makes being 23 damn depressing.

Ord

To be honest, my life in the army was just not fair and fucking unreasonable due to the superior's lack of brains. They think they are doing the right thing and will just shrug off our opinions and commitments. The way they treat people like me is as if they are the only ones that matter. Even though we did try to raise the different problems we faced, they just say something around the lines of standardisation or "suck thumb". And not just that, even if we are given the things we wanted, there are sure people to take advantage of it but all of us must suffer together even though we are not with them. To be honest, collective punishment isn't the way to go in hq because there is a lot of factors needed to be considered. I am just so glad that i got out of the toxicity and continue on to my civilian life. Again.