Serving my remaining 41 days in NS

I was packing and preparing my bag and stuff to bring before reporting in for the first day of 41 days of serving my remainder of my NS. It felt like I was packing for a camping trip. I don’t know how I feel about this whole experience. After studying for 4 years in NTU, I now have to go back NS to serve my remaining days. I am going back to the same camp. But the people will be different definitely. Im quite excited somehow, which is strange. I guess it is all about the feeling of the unknown that gets me excited. Also mixed into the excitement factor is the feeling of nostalgia, or going back to a place that you are so familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time. It’s only 41 days. It should be fast, if only life is smooth while I am inside. I don’t know what to expect really. It feels like day one at that camp all over again. The waiting, the interviewing, the deliberation, of choosing who will get to stay there. Which newly trained transport supervisor will get selected. Alas, during my time, I was the only one they chose. I was alone. As it has always been when I am off to new places, to a new stage of my life.

I wonder if this is all planned out to be that way. My life has always been about tabular rasa, or a clean slate. Starting fresh with no one familiar, off on my own to find my way, make new friends, meet new people. It has always been the case of me whenever I go to a new school. Rarely seeing familiar face. Always facing the unknown. Not knowing how things would proceed from there.

I think the most uncertain of all, is the kind of people I will meet. During my time, there a number of NSF who disrupted and got posted to my camp. And those people were great, and we became good friends. Now I am in their position. I’m finally getting to see how NSF who are younger than me view me now. The perspective has flipped. It should be interesting how to perceive me to be. I’m sure there are fellow transport supervisors there like me. I my only hope is to make friends with them.

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