If life gives you lemon..

As the saying goes, "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade..."

BORING beginning.

First off, this is a very boring topic/question. Secondly, I don't think this can be anything creative. Thirdly, why'd it be lemon, but not apples? Apples are great!

I met the topic by chances as I dropped by a webpage. Then, there's a topic about this lemon thingy in a page which was addressed in the content of scholarships' details. It said writing an essay about the topic might win a chance of getting shortlisted and come for a face-to-face interview. If you get through all of it, you could  actually stand a chance to have your tuition fees waived and more benefits awaiting. It's quite enticing..

Forget it. I'll never give anymore shots for interview. Last time I screwed up an interview. The interviewer was speaking ill of me to the in-charged counselor by commenting that one of the Chung Hua Middle School students- that's me- was reeling off everything from memory. I did a double take. I wasn't having any because I thought I did the interview pretty well. I even put my gratitude to my English teacher, hundredfold thanks for the interview script. But it seems I can't make it and botch things up. People are saying Chung Hua students are not much articulate enough so long as they're having  everything off pat preceding the interview, can't hold a candle to those of whom from St. Jo. St. Jo students are well known of their silver tongue, speaking English as fluent as ... shit, umm, I mean native speakers.

How I know people talking ill of me? Well, I went to the education counseling centre in town, and Ms Yii, the counselor, discerned me as one of the Chung Hua students going for the interview. She told me about a person in the interview who had read aloud everything from his memory, as she's clued in by another school's pupil (probably St.Jo guys). Then, it hit home- I'm that person.

That's probably the reason I'm not going to any other interviews, because it gives me an inferior feeling of being trampled underfoot. Loathing to be jibed at of being a dork, I’ll choose to bottle myself up. A snippet of an artiste in a Singapore drama once resounded in my head, “The world lives no perfect soul. Perfect men are simply perfect in keeping dark secrets. The higher they go, the more the dark secrets they can hold.” Well said. People are making it to the top, craving wealth, fame and lucrative businesses of all ilk, but they  are more aware of their shortcomings yet to reveal. They put up their own façades, and fabricate far more tall stories, swollen in pride and ego and  hanging on ‘till it all burst. When it happens to blow up, many peoples’ tongues are set wagging, and it's a pretty nice case of describing how sour a lemon can be.

Do you think you can find a glass of lemonade in a cut-throat world as it were now? People are doing the same way as to treating the world, and the idea of fighting off convention is quite incredulous, as long as you're bent on holding out your principle and the real you. They judged, taunted, imposed their unscrupulous values on us, failing your crack of making a lemon delight.

Making a lemonade isn't easy. It requires ingredients, methods of handling and unparalleled skills. My mum once told me being a man of valour and integrity isn't to afraid of trials and tribulations. Before I have to triumph over the world, I'm compelled to win over myself. Even so, mum's criticising me who wasn't a real man, but a spineless and meek boy under saying grace and showering protection. Given the example of my interview's experience, it reveals a kind of my weakness: I can't overcome my failure.

When I was young, I like to horse around without rhyme or reason, just out of fun and curiosity. I then grow up in time over 19 years of my life, light dawns on me that I can't be like a kid anymore. I can't cast an utmost thing aside- appearance. The Chinese call it 'the face'. Whenever I'm in public, I can feel as if an invisible audience watching over me, and commenting on my remarks, my moves and my performances. I'll feel embarrassed when they laughed over my fiasco but I'll feel high-spirited if they praised me for my sterling performance. However, I've lifted my expectations, so the invisible audience jeered at me more often than they supposed to be. It weighed me down, upsetting me. In that case, I'm all aware of the stress and burden, and can't win it over to give every attempt a best shot. Indeed the greatest enemy is oneself. To defeat that nitwit, I shan't just put up a brave front, but also to conquer that fear inside. A piece of 'Let it go' lyrics from the album of the Disney movie, 'Frozen' crosses my mind ,"No right no wrong no rules for me", " to test the limit and break through."

I live up to my parents' expectations, and they stressed very hard on my academics. I think the mass of typical Chinese parents are all concerned about their child's study. The Chinese children mostly resigned themselves to toughening themselves up and pushing themselves too hard to fit in their expectations. My parents are not to blame, because I've chosen a life like that, to be a nerd. Homework and exams are always at the top of the list, prior to entertainment and recreation. At times, I asked myself, "do I want to live a life like that?"

A life's beyond measurements and expectations. I can choose a different life in which I can feel free to do something I deem enjoyable and joyful, not a life on the darned desk doing doggone paperwork. There is a lot of possibilities in our lives. I don't have a dream, because I think there's nothing a real dream in the reality. Life kills dreams. Dreams are once deemed to be stupid to somebodies' eye, and people are even uttering that they are for ignoramus to dream on. But then again, I'm yet to take it in that there's nothing on earth can replace a secret ingredient of a lemonade, what's more the only secret ingredient is yourself. You. No matter how cruel life is, it depends on you yourself to think of how your life can be. What seems to be impossible for you to live a dream? You can just live a life you dream. Dream's always as sweet as lemonade, while life's as sour as a lemon. There's a Chinese saying," People are great to make something of themselves because of their dreams." I think realising your own dream and pursuing it are more of a significant life than of a successful yet meaningless life with billions of gold bullion in a bank vault.

Lemon's sour, but the lemonade's sweet. They stand at the exact antithesis. The crux of the matter to execute a 180 degree transformation isn't a child's play. It requires determination, resilience and bravery in order to beat our own opponent- ourselves. Lastly, if life gives you lemons, squirting it into your eyes. Fancy! It's a dare, and you should do it once in your life, and just once in your life's enough to cost you an early visit off to heaven.

A joke

Okay, I'm actually too bored so I'd decided to post at least one thing; though it could be really trashy or crappy, well, any of those could help letting my endless boredom wane. 

First, I'd say I'm so happy that i wouldn't be taken up with studying or going to school early in the morning. I don't think which seems more likely to be complained about - lack of freedom at school or the short of fanatics at home.

Then, I may have to start deciding what I'm gotta do next because I'm already 19 years old, and often I heard people saying that a 19-years-old is compelled to shoulder a larger obligations than which he or she had had before. So, I decided to go to work after my parents' all persuading sessions to prod me into experiencing a new sense of living in an unprecedented society. 

It was my first time working in a very small architecture firm. On the very first day, I got there and took a deep breath before yanking the door open. Then, I hardly realised the door was locked due to the security system somewhere near the door, and I tried a little harder until I found out a lady's head popped out into the transparent glass of the door above a mosaic layer of translucence. And, I heard a short sensor beep before entering that room. 

I practised a short speech across my mind. I came out with the first sentence by saying I was here for the work. I took a seat before the admin's table as requested and waited. She broke the silence, "Are you John's son?" 

I heard her saying 'Jong' which is my father's surname and immediately I answered her with a nod, "yes."

The lady asked me to wait and I waited for a very long time before I braced up myself to ask her the current location of the boss. I strained myself not to be distracted by the rock music blaring out through the door from the staffroom which was beside the admin's office.

She said that my boss wouldn't be so early to show up. Maybe he would come at 10 o'clock or thereabouts. I sneaked a swift peek at my watch, and i was so impressed by myself for being so punctual. It was not yet 8 am. Then, it was that foreboding silence again.

I flashed on the conversation between me and my dad. My father had said the boss is one of his best friends; well, actually those friends who like to go out with him for a nice hangover will always be presumed as his 'best friend'. I was quite ignorant at first because later based on my future colleagues' hearsay evidence, he is not seldom being punctual because of the strong alcoholic effect from the previous night. 

One fateful night, my father popped over to me after my big exam - SPM to tell me that i have been hired for a job in an architecture firm. I stared at him with my eyes widely open. He explained I could learn a lot of things from the job by being exposed to the architecture field. After that I stammered, "B-b-bu-but I have plan for my holidays (very long holidays)." After all, at the end he still seemed to be so obstinate about his intention for me to get that job, in addition with the support of my family, so i gave in.

I dare bet the staffs thinking that i was hired not due to my qualification (I'm merely a school leaver), but was due to the special friendship between my father and my future boss. I could have already pictured them looking down on me. 

Back to the story. So, i asked the admin lady a few questions, such as the number of the employees, the working hours of my job and time of the lunch break. Her name is Daffney. She brought me around the staffroom where there were employees close enough to the total number, the small pantry and the bathrooms of both genders. 

My watch showed it was 9.00 am before Daffney picked up her phone and apparently i could see that the person on the other end of the line was Uncle Harry, my boss. I listened and knew he gave his orders to Daffney regarding my first chore. I was so prepared for it.

I was disappointed by my first chore because it seemed to be so easy. It was just typing some sorts of contracts. It's okay because i believed i could help them by converting the hard copies into soft copies. 

It took me about 2 weeks to complete that particular chore and i lost count of how many pages I had typed. I kept myself busy by the following chores in such tedious doldrums- scanning pictures, searching for images of the materials required for the interior designers and architects, logging on into Facebook (so chicken not to do it during working hours but only during lunch break, indeed I'm compliant.. err I think 'obedient' will be a more positive word to describe me.) and more.  Day by day, I listened to my colleagues' conversation and acknowledged the depth of the commitments in their work, their perceptions towards their boss, their thoughts, and all behaviours.  

There were 3 Philippines there, 1 only Malay and the others were Chinese. Daffney introduced me to the employees and from there I knew their names. After some days getting along with them, i gained some insights about the people, proprieties and society. I'll say this much - some were unpretentious, kind and down-to-earth; however, some were obsequious who like to put up their façades in order to suck up to their boss, some were double-faced by stabbing deeply at the back of the boss, and also some were frank to fume and swear headlong. In that case, I had to be careful by all means with my sentence because they could do things at the back of the boss and they might do so at the back of you.

I knew more about the taboo subject that shouldn't be converse with anyone in the staffroom, for an instance, the salary. Out of curiosity I asked one of my colleagues about their pay and they tried to evade my question. It struck me hard as I had asked the wrong question. Along the way back home, I told my mum about this matter and she talked me through which there are quite a few sensitive topic that I couldn't hit, like family affairs, company's troubles and of course, the salary. If I hit them, I'll sure hit anyone's raw nerves.

People always judge others, and may look down on somebody with lower qualification. I got the job due to relationships of my boss with my dad and not due to my qualification, of course some employees tended to patronise me. I always thought that Daffney was nice but I was wrong. During the days when boss went to other places for business, she'd like to utter a stream of fuck you, damn you and more (especially when the boss is going to come back to work). It's like "Fuck, why'd you come back so early? Fuck" I didn't know she kept the intends in her mind for so long to fuck her boss…but later she added," No fuck, damn you. I'll rather die than fucking you."

The second last day I worked there, early in the morning when there were only a few people, I asked her if my boss got any chores assigned to me. She shook her head but I could see that she was frowning. I assumed that she's not in the mood or perhaps she was annoyed by me asking her questions. I got back to my seat inside the staffroom. Like any other day, I waited for more people to attend and to ask them for chores in order to help them out. Scarcely had I seated, Daffney called me out from the admin office. Just for the instant I had reached her office, I was already searching for an out. She asked me to go to the post office by foot to pay the bills.

 My facial expression must have stunned her as I sensed the blood was draining away from my face.  She did a double take to my first head-on rejection to do her a favour. "What earthly reason you don't know the directions to the post office. Plus, even a woman like me can go to pay the bills, and as a man," her stare’s like bayonet sizing me up, “you don't know how to do so?” I thought I got my intents crystal clear that the hell I didn't know where the post office was. Immediately her words went at me, "with a mouth of yours, you can go down to anybody and ask about the directions." My legs steadfastly stemmed into the ground, seeming too heavy to elevate. Suddenly I hated it myself to have difficulties to ask strangers questions, and thanks to the timid chicken inside me, I was currently sitting on the ground zero.

A more approachable female architect come to us before Daffney with all revulsion and reluctance asked a female architect, Ms Theng, to show me the directions to the post office. Her body language was clear enough to understand:  a hand sweeping her fringe aside and leaning her forehead upon her palm, revealing she's quite as much to displeasure.

Ms Theng awkwardly laughed off the tension and charge, leading me to the boss's office (Uncle Harry wasn't there at that time). After she guided me through the directions, out of my concern I couldn't help myself asking Ms Theng for her phone number to call her if I was lost at nowhere. Oh no, my mind screamed, that cowardly nutcase inside me resurfaced.

"Forget it," Daffney intervened. On the cue, she was heading towards us, apparently having been listening to our conversation, and her words hung like a blade, in such that I couldn't find my voice. She snapped out with a condescending look that for all she'd go to the office herself as she's aware that my father might blame them for leaving me going to the post office alone in case I was lost. She picked up her chores where she left off, her voice’s as sharp as a laser, “Do you know what? You ought to earn as much money as possible for you to hire a personal chauffeur. Therefore, you’ll not be worried about getting lost again.”

WTH you pompous ass, don’t you dare judge me! Like I care, I can snatch those bills off your hands and straight go to the post office all by myself!

I fought off that combative thought, forcing out a wry smile at her and went back to job. I felt my heart was stabbed really deep at this time. I kept myself knee-deep in job so that I'd not be put off by all the harsh memories. My shell-shocked look as though revealed the crushing blow of disdain of myself.

Another total joke of me is on another fateful day. That day, everyone's commitment in their job faded because of the long hours of working out their projects. Carren, one of the female Philippines stood beside me to watch me doing the colouring. I glanced up at her and asked her if she needed me to do her a favour. She shook her head while chewed some food in her mouth and said with a peeled orange in the palm of her hand that she was just relaxing. It seemed to be wrecking awkward to watch me for so long doing this and hence, I simply asked her bluntly the reason nobody did the colouring as long as I'd seen since the first day I was there. She talked me through the importance of the colouring on their projects' and district council's behalf. I didn't know I had given her the impression that doing the colouring was sort of stupid job. She told me that it was necessary and important, much as it seemed to be stupid. I denied the fact that it was stupid (I was actually having fun doing this). Then, Amelia, a female interior designer with a heavy-built and plump body confessed the fact that she could have paid me money to swap her job with me - she did the colouring while I did her computerised sketching of plan. I still couldn't get what she said and told her to buy a colouring book for herself to colour as much as she could at home. Immediately this cranked them up. And it straight hit home. My face absolutely reddened when I saw them bent double with laughter.

Then I knew I had made a joke of myself. I couldn't get more upset than that.

信心是种看见

不要太在乎这自己紧紧抓住的, 放松的时候你看到的沿途风景将会不一样.
明知上帝会看顾 ,就把信心完全交托给祂.
有时太过执着于自己的目标, 总是让自己很痛苦.
我真的觉得这是做起来实在是很难.
明知苦难中,祂要让我们明白自己的渺小
很多时候,我们还没准备好,他就把生命功课叫给我.
又没有倾听我诉苦的耳朵,也没有了解我痛苦的脸

我很在乎别人怎么看我, 可是却没有在乎祂怎么看我.
求主怜悯, 我只是个软弱的罪人
我不断问我自己,到底未来的目标里有上帝为中心吗..
可是计划里, 却只有自己的想法, 把上帝放在很后的一个位置
也许他要我看见我的渺小是祂展现祂的道路的时候,
是要我依靠祂的能力,不再是靠着自己自以为是的小聪明

望着天空, 我真的好想知道祂的旨意
真的好想看见祂要我走的路,
可是我总是没有得到任何的回应.
经过了一段的时间, 经过了好多事,
我终于明白祂不断看顾,一直带领不放弃.

欢乐满校园

我偶然遇见这作文题目，而让我有种想抒发内心情感的一股冲动。
从实招来，纵观我青春时期中学生涯，有好多人说如果是处于在我生活氛围的话，他们简直是会疯掉。
我也这么认为。
我想我也是将近疯掉了。

在我校园生活里，除了读书还是读书。我有朋友甚至说“ 难道你的人生中只有读书吗？”
他们都说我把学业看成生命的首要，以致我牺牲了很多与朋友欢乐的时光，即使中学时光是撰写调皮揶揄，捣蛋玩弄的篇章，是在学校的生活里为自己谱一首这一生中值得回味的交响曲，可是当我蓦然回首，我方才悔不当初，好多如果，好多假设，好多的可能性，但是无法改变的事实是我给我的青春留白，不知是因为缘分，命运的关系，还是自己不够珍惜当下，好好享受短暂的中学生涯？
有人感慨的舒坦一句，“我没有留给学校什么，可是学校却留给我生命中的全部。”

不瞒你说，刚离校的日子里，我一而再，再而三的思念曾经在校园度过的时光，感叹时光荏苒，毫不留情地如过眼云烟，狂妄的风，无情的卷席过我记忆中一点一滴的尘埃，拂过以后就只有一个人独自在记忆的博物馆踯躅，踽踽独自浏览，细细回味记忆中中学生涯里的全部。
但，我恍然发现记忆里是我那一堆堆似嵯峨高山耸立的课外书，课本，参考书...


上帝真的很公平，每人都被给予机会，而机会可能只会有这么一次，也可以是很多次。但是，很多时候我们把这机会看似永远预备的机会，孰不知这机会一旦过了短暂的时期后，就会随风逝去，而我们在这泡沫幻灭的时刻，梦醒时分就后悔自己不好好珍惜，悔恨这一切都太迟了。 我曾经可以在欢乐和痛苦间做选择，但是苦恼后，我做出为了自己的未来而牺牲欢乐机会的抉择。那是痛苦的。

再有一次的机遇下，我参与一次在学校的讲座会。有一位演讲师如此言：
“如果你是个活在过去的人，你会很痛苦; 如果你是个活在未来的人，你身旁的人会很痛苦；如果你活在当下，你是最幸福的那位。” 接着，他问我们是哪一种人。
关乎此，我觉得自己应该是活在未来的人。我很在乎我的未来，偏激的思想使我一心一意为着学校各类考试卯足全力奋斗，结果蔫头耷脑的失去了很多很多。

对于学校，个人有个人的见解，有人视之为囿于他们自由的监狱，有人是视之为学习知识的殿堂，有人视之为生活中的第二个家...
我认为学校是个给人欢乐的天堂，也可以是给人痛苦的地狱。

欢笑间，我们在朋友的陪伴下我们快乐成长；痛苦间，我们在朋友的伴随下同甘共苦。
当毕业钟声响起的那一刻，每个人各各分道扬镳，各奔东西，期待再次重逢的欢乐。
我不想说校园中欢乐的时光胜不枚收，但是学习的过程中我真的体会了得到和失去。
我想这就是所谓的成长吧！

我们在校园里快乐的成长，我们在成长的过程里欢乐。
欢乐有时，痛苦有时，我想这就是人生吧！但是如果有在痛苦和欢乐做选择，我再也不会犹豫地选择后者。 年光似鸟翩翩过，虽然没有一张张的照片当作回忆，但是我相信在悠闲时刻，回溯搁浅的回忆的当儿，记忆将会如滔滔海浪澎湃决堤，过去的画面渐渐清晰，一切仿佛回到了当初。

18岁的天空

18岁的天空很青涩
有人说，市场如战场，而有很多声音要我在毫无预备的情况下被推入市场。
我的个人原则是我得在很高学识下，才进入这所谓战场。
我心里那豪迈浑厚的声音告诉我要确切的认清自己的目标后，方才以全速马力前进。
可是，在这18岁的天空里，我的目标非常迷茫，宛如在辽阔无垠的大海中航海的船遇到暴风后，失去了航海方向，毫无目地的地往前行。
说实话，这还不是我似弱者般个性的怂恿吗？我害怕面对未来，未来会是个很可怕的未知数，而这未知数让我坐立不安，好像一切都不在我的掌控内。
我不是不接受别人的劝告，而是我自己无法踏出信心的一大步。
我知道我的倔强的坚持是大人们所谓的任性不听话，殊不知这是因为正值花样年华，乳臭未干少年无知的想法。

别人告诉我不要轻易改变自己的理想，坚持自己的梦想，披荆斩棘的去圆梦，但是处在一条的主干路，而我被逼迫在好多分岔路选择一条的困境中，我真的无能为力啊。
 我家人认为工程师最适合我，但是这真的是我由衷想要的吗？
我想处于18岁青涩天空里的少年人不止我一个吧!
 太多的抉择，太多的dilemma, 太多的不安，不再是在我能控制的范畴里了。
有人甚至讽刺我，不如你就读书读到死好了，不用再去找工作了。
我还真是顶不顺，我又没有说不去找工作，我只是坚持我个人原则，在有一定的学问后，再去考虑找份工作...
不是有句话说“学无止境”吗？
我没去做假期工作就说成一世不去工作，这讽刺的人还真是偏激叻！
我知道他们只是基于关心我，但是不要以这种强烈讥讽的方式，因为我认为这真的很恶劣！
我知道我已是要将近19岁的人了，可是还是这么不成熟，不懂的为将来打算，甚至还要别人娇生惯养的保护呵护，像小花一样给人笑话...

是我太过于任性吗？


我知道当负面的情绪从心底如决堤般浩然涌流的时候，我真的会崩溃，倔强的外壳决裂，畏缩在一旁顾影自怜。
正月起，我就得开始新的一个里程碑，踏入新的世界。
我也不知道我已预备好了不，可是我想不应该是在我这种仍然处于浑浑噩噩的情况下吧！

Write a story with the ending 'family was all that mattered in the end'.

It was a cold bleak night. The wind sent chills and shivers across his nerves. His eyes were closed. Everything seemed to be still except his trembling hands owing to the extreme coldness. He opened his eyes again, trying to focus on not letting the strong urge pull him under and wash through him.

He sighed and small white vortexes blew out from his mouth. He crouched over the bus stop which could shelter him from the terrible snow. Before he could control his mind, he inserted his hands into his thick outer coat. He took out a packet of capsules as the surge of desire ran through his sinew. He tore the aluminIum foil but suddenly, his eyes popped open and his hands instinctively tossed it in front to a heap of snow.

He regretted how this could be happening to him. He had never imagined this could be the consequences. Everything would have been different if he had listened to his parents' advice and had been aware of his peers.

"Can you stop controlling my life? It's not my life anymore! You're such a control freak!" he shouted at the top of his voice at his mother.

"How dare you use that tone on me, young man", her voice was harshly clipped, "Go to your room!"

It was then with a bang he swung the door shut behind. He had a strong aversion to her labeling him 'young man' like a 10-year-old kid and God, he was 18 years old!

He doubted if it was the reason to all these. He remembered he could not bear cramming for approaching examinations. He could not stand the way his parents exerted pressure on him in such a way that he felt so miserable, stressed and anguished. He did not want a life like that. He felt compelled to sacrifice his entertainment, his dream of being a professional artistic pianist, his chance of catching the trade winds in his sail, and something much more than these, the opportunity of finding a more significant meaning in life. He thought it could have been much more different than a tedious life of being a rag doll, insanely manipulated by a control freak.

Plunging himself into a drug-induced stupor, he realised that he could find his relief through drugs. Nothing at all to suggest that he could be so addicted to drugs like any other of his friends. In wild fanatic, they danced in order to find a release; away from a realistic world into a sheer fantasy. The ecstasy ran amok in a quick tempo with the unfamiliar hot music blaring out from the hidden stereo.

The background changed to the fiendishly icy bus stop. Tears which welled up in his eyes streamed down his unkempt face. His hands simply lingered upon his eyes and deep in his heart, he braced for the familiar overwhelmed feelings. He chided himself for blubbering like a big baby.

A thicker cloth draped across his shoulders down to his back out of the blue. Glancing upward, he was taken aback by the silhouetted figures looming before him. As the tears blurred his sight, he wiped them away and scrutinised each of them carefully.

"Mum? dad?"

His mother languidly leaned across him and in a swift movement, she got him in her hug before her stream of apologies burst out. She broke down with her hands wrapping around him.

"Mum and dad should be more caring to you, darling. Give us another chance. We will start all over again." Dad's detached voice was infused with a great depth of sincerity and apology.

They embraced in a circle and felt the warmth together. He burst out in tears for his ignorance, as he was moved by his parents' unbounded forgiveness. For now, he was determined to give himself a chance to start his life anew. There is no turning back. He firmly decided to break through his addiction by going into rehab, for the sake of his family. After all, family was all that mattered in the end.


(683 words)


P/s Feel free to comment on my essay. I'd welcome any constructive suggestions/ criticisms on the essay.

For a new edited version with more idioms, proverbs and similes, please go to
http://2ndalexander.blogspot.my/2017/02/story-edited.html

school

The golden words emblazoned on the wall of the building read: 'S.M.K. Chung Hua Miri'. Memories that carved into my mind reminded me of the secondary school life I have been through for the 6 years of my life.There would be thousands of pages to be crammed with my hoarded feelings and reminiscence towards my school. My school means more than just nurturing me to become an educated person, it has been a friend accompanying my teenage life.

Squinting through my school from a bird's-eye view now, once again I am awestruck by the majesty of our school's large green field. Little did I know it is a place where talented athletes realise their inner potential and strength. My friends and I were used to running on the tracks, shifting all our internal gears into full blast such that at the end, we smiled wearily yet satisfyingly, despite the sheen of sweat and dirty trousers caked with dirt and pebbles.

Then, I trot my way to the classrooms where some scholarly looking people chatter and laugh at the top of their voices. The scene has accentuated a familiar academic atmosphere. It reminded me of the last year of my secondary school life. My classroom had always been highly charged especially when big examination approached. Besides waging a war with weariness and drowsiness, my fellow friends had to strain all their efforts on tonnes of books. My friends and I would always talk ourselves through our dreams and the reasons we put our best foot forward in the pursuit of our dreams. We vouched unanimously that we would be on guard with every difficulty that might wall up against us. My school was once a place where dreams began their journey after we had thrown off the bowlines and sailed away from the safe harbours. The so-called 'Chung Hua spirit' gave us powerful strength and persistent determination to catch the trade winds in our sails, to explore, to dream and to discover.

Canteen is, and always will be the hotspot to every student, particularly to skive the boring lessons. The wondrous time with my friends flashed through my head, took me aback by the silly things we had done. Once in a lifetime did we sow the oats and conjure crazy stuff out of our frenetic passion. Besides joking around and laughing serious matters off, we would bury our heads on their offered shoulders, snug as a bug in a rug, in order to chase the vehement emotions and blues away.

The first time I sang my school anthem, God, it was a really funny song. Singing it several times would actually bore you. However, the school anthem may conjure up the memories and the spirit of a Chung Hua student. It would be a great difference singing at the time you are in school and by the time you are not in school anymore. I think the greatest difference is the feeling because it may well up tears in your glassy eyes and whirl emotions like vortexes in your belly.

Time passed, people change; yet, memories remained.

Probing deeper into my secondary school life, I am struck by the pang of stupefaction and realisation that I spared most of the time on my study. It would be stupid to always be in the class from the absolute day one until my graduation. What if I tried once in a lifetime bunking off exhaustively boring classes? What if I sneak out of class to eye the back of my school hall where the popular fallacy of ghost stories spread amongst the students? What if I have been the school prefect and experienced the new things I have never been before?
The what-if session will not change the past and the fact that I had been graduated.

Along the way out of my school, I could not help glancing back at the building of whitewashed wall before I mouthed a silent 'goodbye' to my school.