Importance of competition to me

Before I start this post, I'd like to say a great thanks to Xianda for joining Band and somehow getting put into the same section as me.

I compete in Hwa Chong everyday. Marks, prizes and even friends are competed for (don't ask me how). Being put into such an environment needs you to do your best at every time, in order not to get overshadowed by others. But recently I started to think about how I even survive in a school like Hwa Chong, when in like P5 i was almost failing english (and yet again in Sec 2) and I have this totally unawesome stage fright. So how exactly would I ever make it through Hwa Chong? I remember when a GEP student in Catholic High quit GEP because it was too stressful. Why doesn't it happen to someone like me, a person who has a problem articulating my opinions in a school that emphasizes oral participation?

The answer is simple, I posited(random word use), it was the competition that made me do well. Maybe I would have done near the best in a neighborhood school and not have so much stress from screwing up my english, but that just would be because of my talent in other subjects (except art) and also the fact I am well in my comfort zone. But in Hwa Chong, the competition makes me do better than what I can usually do. Secondary 1 somehow proved the potential I ( and also i1) had. I was sort of surprised of a less steep mark drop although I lived in fear of the exams (seeing my brothers results). Competition provided a burst for me, to spur me on to do 110%. Maybe its a natural thing. In band, I am also pushed out of my comfort zone. For a good sound, you need air support which comes from air, and you have to breathe in as much as you can to your diaphragm. So if you stop breathing in when you feel a little uncomfortable, the sound will not be nice. If you do not push yourself, there is not much a chance you will do well.

This theory was more or less untestable (actually totally untestable). I would not be crazy enough to screw up more tests in such an important year of my life. But another event today in band, it showed of this relationship. It was about four and I was having sectionals with my senior and Xinada. Xianda had a broken screw on his horn, and my senior decided to focus on me instead. How nice. While Xianda looked on, I played an exercise alone, and realised I was making mistakes that I usually did not make. If you are thinking my stage fright has something to do with it, theres about no way I could be scared of my senior. Only when Xianda started playing my normal sound came back. My senior asked me to start again, but I was still shaky. Not sure why, but it had something to do with not wanting to push myself over my comfort zone and play. Xianda, being better than me in the horn was a sort of goal to reach, and when I played without him, I realised I was uncomfortable with him not playing, not being that goal I was supposed to surpass. And then there went the hour,me trying to play but failing quite badly.

The effect would not be so strong with people i did not know well. After all, why would I need Xianda as that competition if I had the entire band instead? This gives me a much closer relationship with him, as I try to surpass him trying to surpass me. Thats why I should thank him, for helping me achieve much in this band without him knowing it. Our competition has led to progress, and I hope soon success. So with this I hope all my classmates would push each other on, in this environment full of competition and also have lots of fun on the way! :D

Question 2A

Its my first time doing such a piece of writing so I'm not sure if I should write this on Monday.



2a. I waited, twiddling my fingers, sometimes looking up from the book on my lap, sometimes glancing furtively towards the white door on the left, with an ominous sign on it saying "Danger, strong electric current inside. Please do not go in during testing." I gulped at the sign of the word "testing." What exactly did they do to the dozens of people that went in before me? I scanned around. Another person on my left, not inclined to have any chat. He was doubled over, in a posture I assumed to be praying. The white door opened. A monotonous voice inside called out "Next one in: 15647263." The man looked up, knowing it was his turn. I shuddered at the name tag they gave me. 14667738. It was like some name tag of a criminal, waiting for his turn on the death row. The door closed with a resounding click. The man was gone too. Now there was no one down the ash-white corridor. Just some chairs. With noone else, I knew I was next.



The last fifteen minutes I spent engrossed flipping and reading, trying to take my mind off the testing. But the voice called out again. "Next one in: 14667738." The door seemed to be held open by an invisible force. A strange white light emnated from inside. A straight staircase to heaven. Nice. A sigh came out from somewhere, and I realised it was mine. I shuffled into the room. A man in a white lab coat, presumably a researcher, was observing something from a monitor on a table. The door clicked behind me, and I looked back. Preparation/ Observation room. Another click, shutting me from the strange light that seemed straight ahead. The researcher told me, "Okay, you are here for a easy but a little dangerous experiment." He seemed to stress the word little. I had in my mind the thought to bombard him with questions, but I stopped when I opened my mouth. What was there not to trust in a man seemingly capable of a science degree, and also a job at this research institute? Furthermore I also volunteered for this, I had been warned about the dangers. I stood there, staring straight at him. he continued talking. "You will need to wear this." he explained while getting a wristband like thing out of a minifridge on the same table beside him. It was a weird green, and the liquid inside squished around. It gave off a green light, and was refreshingly cool when he wrapped it around my hand. The green liquid swished and changed to a lighter yellow, with a spiral of green still swirling inside, to a hypnotic effect. water vapour condensed on its side, and danced on the sides of the band. The researcher smiled and flipped on a button. The machines that lined the walls of the room started humming, to a tune that almost resembled a chord. The door in front opened and I could see where I was going into. It was a warehouse with a huge ball connected by a huge spiral of wires to the ground, and some pillars of wires. The researcher gave me a push into the warehouse, pointing me towards a chair. He allowed me to bring my book in. It was surprising that he did not follow me in. What was I really going for? I looked to the left, and saw some natural sunlight for once. But also the vans of paramedics. Sweet. I shuffled towards the chair and sat down, waiting for something to happen.

Next, I saw the door close and the garage door leading to freedom close. They locked me in. Now I had no way to stop what the researcher had planned for me, or what I was expected to do. I began to read again. My heart was beating erratically, and I felt an abnormal sense of fear. The researcher's voice boomed right past the silence, echoing on the rigid, cold aluminum walls of the warehouse. "Now I strongly suggest you stay still on that chair. Don't worry, nothing dangerous is going to happen. I assure you it is spectacular." The ball in the middle of the warehouse started to hum and crackle. My breathing was hard and deep. I tried to keep my mind of the experiment. The ball crackled and sparked and I saw bolts of electricity arc to the ground. It was a spectacular show, being so close to an electrical storm. Sparks flew everywhere, reflecting off the pillars of wires, set off to a random course to somehow reach the ground. It was evident one would reach me soon. I was getting dizzy. The experiment was crazy! A split second, and a bolt zig zagged towards a pillar, and continued on its journey downwards. Three seconds, and its course was evident. It was arcing towards me.

The bolt struck, but I felt no pain. Was I already dead? Did I wake up in a hospital? Neither. The bolt was attracted to the band on my wrist. It glowed yellow, then red, then white, then a mix of random colours flying around inside, but still kept cool. I realised yet another thing. My hand was moving towards the ball, linked together by that bolt. The rest of the flying sparks seemed to beckon me towards it. I thought, "Strange! I have no control over my body and I cannot even turn the page of my book." Instead I was moving closer to the ball, dragged by an unknown force, forced to stand and walk, even when my sense of balance was affected. Too close to the ball, and I would die. I thought of how to escape, slowly running out of time. I yelled to stop the experiment. The wristband glowed stronger and stronger. Taking me with it. But something happened and I fell backwards. The strong crackling stopped. The researcher must have heard my plea and stopped the experiment. Back through the preparation room, the researcher did not tell me if the experiment was a failure or a success. He just thanked me for my participation and left me to think about my near death experience. But I guess that would make a great theme park ride!

the life of an overly polite individual

I read about an article stating about Singaporeans being extremely ungracious and not thinking about others, but states that they are overly polite. So I will now write about the life of an overly polite person.

The life of an overly polite person

At four he threw all his various, expensive toys down, telling his mother not to buy them anymore and waste money.

At eight, he threw the food his mother made onto the floor, trying to remind everyone that his mother's cooking indeed was bad.

At twelve he copied away at his friends test script, knowing this way he would pull up the class average.

At sixteen he vandalised walls, knowing he would beautify the environment with his unique designs.

At twenty, he became a bookie, fulfiling peoples desire to gamble, and also getting monetary benefit, thinking of the best way to generate a win-win situation.

At twenty four, he reminded people they could stand by refusing to get off the bus seat.

At twenty eight, he gave employment to some aunties and uncles by littering and not clearing his table.

At thirty two, he turned to gambling himself, wanting to spend the money on his family.

At thirty six, he weaved past lanes in front of others, and encouraged them to give way and help a person before himself.

At forty, he jammed the breaks in front of the ERP just to put in his cashcard, saving the police time by not breaking the law.

At forty four, he kicked cats and poured boiling water on dogs when he lost money in gambling. How considerate that he did not take it out on humans instead.

At forty eight, he blocked entrances to trains, allowing better human traffic flow out of the other doors. (All the passengers would go out of the other doors so allowing him and the passengers behind him to go in easily)

At fifty two, he cut the 4D queue so that he could use the prize money to bring his family overseas.

At fifty six, he tried to keep the peace at the library by talking as loud as he could so others would look at him and stop talking. What self sacrifice!

At sixty, he slept on benches in the park or sofas in the library, giving a subtle reminder not to while away time and waste it.

At sixty four, he went to shopping centers without bathing , giving the impression that he was supporting a saving water campaign by PUB.

At sixty eight, he jaywalked across the road and got hit by a car, even when he bothered to make the drivers more cautious and therefore the roads more safe. He did not make it past seventy.

It was clearly understood that such a man would surely be reserved a spot in heaven, for all the good deed he had done.

Tom Robinson's Trial song

Going to try. If this is not successful I'm going to do the article. The league of nations from history song inspired this. It is also from ABBA mamamia.

In "to kill a mockingbird" the Ewells made a claim
Their daughter was "raped" and a black man should take the blame
Tom Robinson, seemed to be the culprit
Few in town, wanted to doubt that
very statement,
It was because of racism.

Atticus was sent to defend this man
He wanted a fair judgement to be dispensed wo-o-oh

Tom Robinson, he was wrongly blamed
My My the result would probably be the same.
Tom Robinson was in a plight
Atticus hoped the truth would be brought to light
The blacks were lower (social status) than the ewells
like they were to be damned in hell.
Sadly the trial did not go his way

When the trial came it was a time of lots of tension
Atticus took the witnesses and the victim to mention
Where were all of her injuries
What hand bob wrote with,
and all about mayella life
Atticus had a solid defence

When Tom was questioned he made an error
He felt sorry for a white superior wo-o-oh

Tom Robinson, was a mockingbird
Unable to give anything but goodness
Tom robinson, trapped by his own humanity
How he wished that there would be equality
Sadly the jury was unfair
with evidence they still didnt care,
They still pronounced him guilty

The mockingbird's habitat

Without all the scientific stuff, let me launch myself into an explanation about the mockingbird's habitat.



Mockingbirds are small birds that have this strange (maybe not for birds) habit of mimicking sounds from other birds or insects. They chirp loudly and often continue for a very long time. They do not come together, they are territorial birds It is that small, and fluffed up, they seem... cute. During their mating season, male mockingbirds in order to attract females sing night and day. Mockingbirds do not give anything but goodness? Thats wrong. They peck at anything that comes near. How is that goodness. Thats aggressiveness.



Moving on, mockingbirds according to this website lives in open country with thickets, farmland and desert brush. Or bushes or trees. This is specifically to the northern mockingbird, but the northern mockingbird lives almost anywhere within the USA. which means also Alabama, and somehow Maycomb. Maycomb is in alabama which has a lot of rain throughout the years and has four seasons. A countryside area would hardly have any skyscrapers at that time, so mockingbirds would come during the summer, which is part of their mating season. They eat ants beetles, grasshoppers, berries and seeds, and during summer the berries and seeds ripen and there are more ants and grasshoppers. Basically, summer in maycomb (Alabama) conincides with the mating season of the Mockingbird, and Maycomb is in the countryside where there are many trees and bushes for the mockingbirds to nest in, and they have plenty of food. No fauna is needed to attract mockingbirds. They are not attracted to sweet smeeling flowers, and all they need is a random tree to nest in.

thinking night

thinking night = stay up heheh



now a weird topic, thinking about myself.
( It may be a little rambly, but note that these thoughts just pour out of my mind)

To me, thinking about myself and my actions is like watching a movie about my actions, without the popcorn and the comfy seat. Like right now, example, am I really typing a blog post in the middle of the nighthe, am I just seemingly putting in my version of whatever i am doing right now? Am I really there? This is further emphasized by sudden events that may cause grief or extreme happiness. I may not just realise I am there, doing whatever I do, and then do something recklessly, thinking it is all unreal. When some really bad things happen and I hide in my bed, I really wonder if I am in this world or not, and I star t to space out. Could I really be in some theater watching my own life story? No wonder why people need reality to sink in, like some people who win millions in a lottery (wish i were that lucky) or others who lose 5 of their family members in a freak accident (ouch) Sometimes I even wonder if I am really living, and experiencing the fun of being alive and such, and experiencing boring events (like the event that we are forced to go to five times a week -- just kidding) But thinking about myself allows me to reflect, and not wonder if im in a movie everytime. So thinking about myself is in essence me in a stand up theater watching through the character eyes a movie and thinking, should he be doing that and such. What a weird post. Brr

About Jia Chin's blog

Ever noticed that Jia Chin writes regularly about death and such? Ill try to do a post about that topic right now.

The old man hated life more than ever. When was it? When did he actually have silence? When was he able to reflect and recount on his past experiences? When was he ever alone? He thought of a plain meadow, wind, sunshine and above all , silence. He would be happy there. He dreamed of the scenery, the perfectness of it all. However, every few seconds, a loud horn, a sudden shout, a police car wailing, all these would snap him out of his own universe. That was it. After 10 years of slowly detioriating health and state of mind and tolerating such noises, he decided to make a choice. Silence. That was all he wanted. Total Silence. After 10 horrible years of hearing the ugliness of the human toungue, every shout, every argument, every insult as an act of viciousness, he had enough. His heartbeat became more rapid. I would end all the suffering. His already frail body was shaking. Silence. That was all he wanted. Total Silence. He was already dying. Somehow, he mustered the strength to sit up and look at the photo of him at a farm in Austrailia. It was so carefree, so silent. He was happy. Then, something in his heart broke. He flopped back onto the bed. He saw a glimpse of how happy he would be in the farm, in the meadow with peace and quiet. There was a instinctive struggle for life. He had... to .. go there one more... time...to experience the feeling again...
The old man died happy, in his bed in his apartment. Silence. That was all he wanted. Total Silence. That day, he grasped it in his hand. The old man hated life more than ever. Now, he had total silence.