nah I didn't actually emerge a victor when the CTs (or as my school likes to call it: "Prelims I") ended. I ended up more like half-beaten, half-dead; physically, mentally. The full length papers took a toll on me and drained out all of my energy, and I could assure you that that thing I call my brain wasn't even working at its full capacity (it never did) during this CT period. Imagine what was left of it. Probably this gooey mushy mixture of brain juices contained within this wrinkly intertwined layers of membranes, working as hard as it could to work this zombie-like body and squeezing out what was left of it to sustain my basic locomotive actions. Pfft. I'm just exaggerating. no but seriously

And as with all past experiences of prepping for tests and exams alike, I'm horribly unprepared for any subjects at all. Yeah you may say no one is ever prepared, but I can safely say that everyone, and anyone, is more prepared than I am, that's for sure.

It doesn't help that the revelation kicks in that A levels are 100+ days away after the Prelims ended and you have no freaking mood to study. What the hell is this? SOME KIND OF A CRUEL JOKE? Nah, I'm not in for this madness, I need to celebrate no matter how hard I fail this time round. And then the panic attack happens whenever I realize how little time left there is. When I panic, I really do.

But that doesn't mean the panic, the pressure and the stress I experience manifests into something productive. I slowly creep back into my unholy habits again, putting whatever was of importance aside. I truly hold on to this almighty principle: out of sight, out of mind. (And its not as if I deliberately put it off, my mind automatically does it. oh gosh. )

Beauty was about uniformity; the colours should fall into places where they belong. It was easy to follow the rules. The child is praised for painting his skies blue, and his grass green. There was something reassuring about conformity. He was made to believe that this was the formula to the world’s approval, but no-one has ever revealed the harsh cruelties of a competitive reality that would rid him of all purity. It was the purity and innocence that once spurred his ever-growing enthusiasm to create. Slowly, silently, and eventually – it had to be killed. One day, he would wake up and quietly accept that he is no longer that hero who would change the world.
We have all been lied to since the day we arrived into the world. We are all victims of robbery. We have been stripped of our imaginative minds, we have been stripped of our dreams. But that is why people strive to fight, because they want to claim for a made-believe world that they once grew up in.
I am but just a drop of water in the sea. The woes of mine are nothing compared to the rest of the world. Sometimes I question my purpose in this world, and other times I see the universe’s existence as a question itself. It has never occurred to me that one day I would have to die and leave my conscious state of mind.
That thought alone worries me.

Source

This perfectly sums up what I feel about everything I've experienced pertaining to education and being educated, in Singapore. The author expressed in a simple, concise manner whatever I wanted to but could not have done so. (probably due to my poor English)