Zee

This post is for 238832 (OR to those who are taking O levels sometime later). I seriously hope you would spare some time and think before you fall prey to yourself. Read this story about a person I know too well.

A year gone. Blew away, like dust in the wind. The moment his last paper - Chemistry Paper 1 - ended, Zee’s classmates celebrated with the freedom they've imprisoned in their hearts for a long time. How intoxicating it felt, all the months of suffering, every drop of sweat shed in cramming their brains was worth it. The blissful thought of freedom obliterated every ounce of torment they've endured, for what felt like a century. But not the whole class felt that way. Zee didn’t. Zee did not spread his wings to fly just like the others did. He was stunned, in confusion, in fear.

The day Zee entered 3E1, he knew this was ‘it’. He made it here and he was proud of himself. People around him congratulated him for having made it to the Pure Science Class. He knew it was gonna be tough but he figured he should start off nice and easy. After all, he was in the first class. And he wasn’t going to ‘war’ that year anyway.

So Zee ambitiously lived each day, dreaming of being a hero. ‘Let life unveil itself’, he declared, an affirmation of his confidence and resolution to take it easy. He thought ‘There shall be an intense period before the O’s when THEN I’ll torture myself. There’s still time’. What he didn’t realize back then was that single thought, which he continued to reassure in his mind, was a pledge for suicide. Ultimately, he has already been defeated, without even entering the war.

As months proceeded, people around Zee thought he was progressing. Yes, Zee did his homework, but not all of them. Yes, Zee did pass his exams, but again, not all of them. Zee pardoned each failure with a mere ‘I’ll do better at the REAL thing – the O levels.” However, inspiration to amend his mistakes did not last long. He failed, he reassured improvement, and he failed again. He was living a lie. Lying to his relatives, his friends, his parents, most severely, to himself.

When Zee’s finally year approached, he imprudently assumed himself that ‘the intense period of preparation will come, but not now’. It remained engraved on the bulletin board inside his immature mind. He continued to cherish every praise, which did nothing more than only to inflate his ego. He took his time, his homework, his exams for granted.

Eventually, a tremendous amount of pressure cascaded down on him like a landslide. He assumed that period he’s so frequently reminded of has arrived. He started studying rapidly, attempting to hold on to whatever he can extract out of his textbooks. The moment he thought he had shifted into high gear, the world came crashing down on him. Life turned upside down.

Pressure multiplied as people showered him with high expectations, hopes and well wishes. Hours are maximized at the study table. Every math sum he tackled had only backfired him right in the face. Every science fact he jammed in, it only led him to new ones. Insane. Just plain insane.

Day 1 of war. Zee rode his horse proudly into battle, clutching hard onto his weapons, in anticipation of the enemy. A ripple of fear appeared on his face. His inner voice whispered deep into his ear, "You’re not ready.” Unfortunately his conscience was right.


Weeks of war were lived with nothing but anxiety, tension, and intensity. Painful morning and night preparations were deemed futile when Zee’s inner voice was proved right again – paper after paper. Zee was hit by a fever on the day of his Physics Paper 2, which hindered him completely from preparing for the next paper the next day: E Maths Paper 2.

His second shot at his MT paper was blown to shreds when his specialty in writing expository compositions proved to be no match for the question – but he was forced to take it on as he wasn’t prepared enough for the other choices. His inner voice was proved right yet again. It was like trying to slay a dragon with a sword, made of cotton.

The days went rapidly. Practicing Add Maths was like defusing bombs. Memorizing History was counting sand grains on the beach. Time constraints only led Zee to ‘selective studying’ – in other words, laying death traps for himself. The horror, the pain, the misery.

And there he stood. The day after O levels, feeling nothing but emptiness. Cold, dark, and immense emptiness. Never, I repeat, never think that you’ve done enough for yourself or think you’ll rejoice later.

What’s the point? What’s the fucking point if you’re just gonna weep and whimper when you get your Final results?
What’s the point throwing away so much money, four years of opportunity to achieve success, only to obtain failure?
What’s the point of regretting and wishing you could start all over again?

Don’t be a fool and permanently label yourself a loser by regretting later.

Here’s the truth: If you’ve been thinking highly of my resilience, intelligence, and diligence – you have clearly overestimated me. I was in the first class, that doesn’t make me a champion. Zee was a boy who was a fool who had been immersed in selfish overconfidence, relishing the worthless worldly pleasures and busy finding buried treasure when he’s actually digging his own grave.

Time and time again, you hear people tell you: ‘Work very hard’, ‘Do your best’, ‘It’s for your own good’.. I’m not here to nag and repeat those, but like you, I am a teenager too. I’ve been through this.

Take some time to think about what you have done and what you have become. Most importantly, what you will become if you keep this up. Time waits for no man, and I know it sounds cliché, but there’s no other way. You have a lot of potential, don’t turn the tables on yourself.

Don’t be like Zee.
Don’t be like me.

It’s just not worth it.