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Jul' 25: How to Survive A Levels + Gratitude.

Prologue These figures are drawn from publicly available data and reliable sources. For readers who are curious or would like a deeper breakdown, feel free to contact the author directly for more information. On a side note, it’s kind of refreshing not having to cite sources like I would in a research paper when I’m writing for myself, haha. The Singapore-Cambridge GCE Advanced Level, or more commonly known as the A-Levels is widely regarded as one of the most rigorous and challenging pre-university examinations in the world. It stands alongside other famously demanding national exams such as Korea’s 수능 (Suneung), China’s 高考 (GaoKao), and India’s IIT-JEE (Indian Institute of Technology Joint Entrance Examination).

For many students, the A-Levels represent a true academic marathon, requiring deep conceptual understanding, discipline, and mental resilience. The exam is typically administered when a candidate is in Junior College (JC), typically after two years of study. It follows a unique system of subject levels: H1 (Higher 1), H2 (Higher 2), and H3 (Higher 3). H1 subjects are lighter in content and focus on breadth, while H2 subjects dive deeper into the subject matter and form the academic core. H3 subjects are optional and meant for students who want to explore content at a university level. Students generally take three H2 subjects, one H1 contrasting subject, along with General Paper, Project Work, and Mother Tongue Language (if not previously exempted). Lets break it down further for my foreign readers. Singapore sees an average birth cohort of around 36,000 to 38,000 each year. While students can pursue a variety of educational pathways, the most socially desirable—and often the most competitive—is the Junior College (JC) route leading to university. Each year, about 11,000 students sit for the Singapore-Cambridge GCE A-Level examinations. In 2024, approximately 10,889 candidates took the exam, with a strong showing—94% achieved at least three H2 passes along with a pass in General Paper or Project Work. Of those who qualify, roughly 80% of A-Level and IB graduates progress to local autonomous universities. In that same year, about 18,500 students from JC, Integrated Programme (IP), IB, and polytechnic backgrounds were offered places at one of Singapore’s six public universities.

Here’s how the undergraduate spots were distributed at Singapore's 6 Autonomous Universities (approximation):

National University of Singapore (NUS): ~7,308 places

Nanyang Technological University (NTU): ~6,501 places

Singapore Management University (SMU): ~2,380 places

Singapore University of Technology and Design (SUTD): ~494 places

Singapore Institute of Technology (SIT): ~3,381 places

Singapore University of Social Sciences (SUSS): ~1,117 places 

For the more observant, you may have heard of the term ���Big 3,” which refers to the three oldest and most reputable universities in Singapore: National University of Singapore (NUS), Nanyang Technological University (NTU), and Singapore Management University (SMU). This post won’t dive into the debate on prestige, morality, or ethics behind the university admissions process. Instead, it aims to serve as an informative guide: for students, a breakdown of what it takes to get there; and for parents, a clearer picture of how to best support your child’s journey toward these top institutions. Now back to the numbers.

For those who have been keeping track: out of an annual birth cohort of around 38,000 students, approximately 11,000 sit for the A-Level examinations each year. Of those, roughly 40% secure a spot in one of the Big 3 universities. If you’re wondering why the numbers don’t add up exactly, it’s because the cohort includes international students, IB students, mature students, and others beyond the local A-Level candidates. That means approximately 11.6% of students make it to the Big 3 universities, give or take. To put it simply, for those with large friend groups, that’s roughly 1 in every 10 who achieve this milestone. Absolutely staggering.

Why all the focus on the “Big 3”? Truthfully, it’s a cultural legacy that’s been embedded since Singapore’s early days. While SMU is a relatively recent addition to the trio, these three universities have consistently been regarded by Singaporeans as the pinnacle of higher education. They are seen as institutions that produce the nation’s best and brightest.

To give you some perspective: among the 18 Cabinet Ministers serving under The Honourable Prime Minister Lawrence Wong, if we exclude the 8 who studied overseas, 9 out of the remaining 10 hold undergraduate degrees from NUS. The sole exception to this is Mr Masagos Zulkifli, who earned his undergraduate degree from NTU and later completed a master's at NUS. This prestige is also reflected in employment statistics, with roughly 90% of graduates from these universities able to secure employment within 6 months of graduation, in contrast to around 50% from private institutions. While I personally believe merit goes beyond just university names, the Big 3 have, for better or worse, become deeply ingrained as a benchmark of success in Singapore’s cultural and academic landscape.

This is why the A-Levels often feel like a "do or die" moment for many budding academic achievers — you either make it, or you don’t. Take it from someone who once scored 2.5 / 90 in a major JC exam. Life can be brutal. And while it’s perfectly valid to explore different pathways, switching to polytechnic or ITE after a year in JC can feel like a significant detour. Some may see it as a practical reset; others may see it as confronting a tough truth: that the traditional academic route might not be the right fit. My pride did not allow me to admit defeat. Instead, I reflected and came up with 6 core principles that helped me not just survive, but truly thrive in this demanding environment. For those of you aspiring to be future Big 3 graduates — take these principles to heart. Reflect on them, apply them consistently, and I promise: you won’t just make it through JC… you’ll thrive and come out stronger, sharper, and more resilient than ever. I, for one, am not against academic excellence—far from it. I strongly encourage it. Personally, I aspire to pursue a master’s degree and, eventually, a PhD in my own time. That said, I am neither elitist nor dismissive of those who choose a different path. The purpose of this blog and this post is to support and uplift those who are ready to take on the journey, while also encouraging those who may have felt left behind. Everyone deserves the opportunity to grow in their own way. Lets get right into the 6 Principles: 1. Mindset Reset

Or to quote the younger generation — Lock in. By now, through my long-winded storytelling, you’ve probably realised that only 30–40% of each cohort take the A-Levels, and from there, only the top ~10% make it to the Big 3. Singapore’s education system unfortunately operates like a finely tuned filter, sifting students at every stage. If you’ve made it to JC or chosen to take the A-Levels, you should automatically assume you’re entering a league of the nation’s brightest.

Most readers are likely familiar with Singapore’s reputation in STEM. According to recent OECD rankings, Singapore consistently tops the charts in science, mathematics, and reading. This means that you, the aspiring student, are not just competing locally — you’re now in the arena with some of the best students in the world.

You’ll soon realise that you’re no longer a big fish in a small pond. You’re a big fish in an ocean where everyone is smart, capable, and locked in. And this is where I ask you the question: Do you want better? If your answer to that question is “yes,” then you’ll need to make a serious commitment for two full years. Forget the Reddit posts romanticising the idea of always making time for yourself, friends, and relaxation. The reality is this: JC life is often more intense than University, and academic performance is closely tied to the number of hours you dedicate to learning. That doesn’t mean you can’t take short breaks or have moments of indulgence but understand this clearly: Studying will need to be your constant.

2. Sacrifices

In line with my first point—sacrifices must be made.

What kind of sacrifices, you might ask? Time, friendships, relationships, and sometimes even your own comfort. Everyone is given the same 24 hours a day. Let’s break it down: 10 hours go to school and classes, 6 for sleep, 2 for meals and travel—that leaves you with 6 hours (or less). How you use those hours is entirely up to you.

When I first scored that ridiculous 2.5 points, make no mistake—I was using all of those 6 hours (and probably more) on “me time.”

In contrast, high-performing students regularly go beyond the 100%. They stretch those hours, pushing into the 110%, buried in notes, assignments, and revision. While there are always exceptions, the truth is simple: time invested and academic results are almost always strongly correlated.

It goes without saying that I do not recommend sacrificing health. Health always comes first.

There’s no point burning out or falling sick just to chase grades. A well-rested mind learns faster and remembers better. Trust me... those all-nighters, skipped meals, and energy drink binges don’t pay off in the long run. Pace yourself. Sleep. Eat properly. Exercise if you can. You're not just preparing for an exam; you're preparing to take on life, and life needs you at your best, not broken.

3. Choose your Friends Wisely This might come across as a little snobbish—but it’s true: you are the product of the people you surround yourself with. In a time as critical as these two years, something as simple as choosing the right friends can have an outsized influence on the trajectory of your life. The conversations you have, the habits you pick up, the way you view ambition and success—it all gets shaped by the company you keep.

I personally view the ages between 16 to 18 as the most formative years of one’s young adult life. Your mindset, ambitions, and overall attitude toward life are often cemented during this critical window. While most people see friends as simply an extension of their life, at this stage—when you're spending at least 50% of your daily hours with them—their influence becomes far more significant.

Think of it this way: if we were to run a hypothetical experiment with a pair of twins attending the same school, but placed in two different social circles—one surrounded by studious peers, the other by carefree, playful friends—who do you think is more likely to succeed? The answer may seem obvious, but it highlights just how powerful your environment can be.

In a way, this tip calls for a bit of self-awareness and perception when it comes to the friends you choose. While it's important to surround yourself with the right people, the good old gut feeling rule always applies. If you ever feel that you're spending too much time with friends to the point where your studies begin to suffer, trust that instinct. At the end of the day, you’re the only one who has to face the consequences—so make sure your priorities stay in check. 4. Getting into a Rhythm

Think of studying like an exercise: many, many sets of the same movement repeated over and over again. It’s not always glamorous, and sometimes it’s downright exhausting—but that’s what builds discipline and mastery.

And that is the core of this principle: building and leading a disciplined life. You wake up at 6AM, attend lessons, study during breaks, go for your CCAs, study again, and head to bed. Repeat. Day in and day out, for two whole years. I understand how this might sound like you’ll have “no life,” but I can assure you these sacrifices will be worth it in the long run.

Most students I know follow structured schedules, allocating specific hours to Biology or Math, capping travel and dinner time, even setting precise sleep routines. Personally, I’ve never followed a rigid schedule. Instead, I operate on an internal rhythm; a quiet but firm discipline. I just know when something needs to be done, and I do it. It’s less about a timetable and more about cultivating the mindset to act when it counts. This approach also gives me flexibility to adjust when needed, without derailing the larger momentum. For those who need some academic direction, a good rule of thumb for daily revision is this: diversify your content. Don’t just drill one subject the whole day. Mix it up—rotate between your sciences, your humanities, and even your GP. This keeps your brain fresh and engaged. And if you’re really not feeling a particular topic, don’t force it. Switch it up. Always listen to your mind. Some progress in another subject is better than burning out on one. Overall progress > Slow Progress. 5. Compensation

I would like to address the most unfair part of studying: different aptitudes. To put it simply—some are smarter than others.

My message is to those on the "less academically inclined" like myself: We can do it. We can make up the difference. For every hour someone else spends, we might need 1.5 or even 2 hours. That’s just the reality. But that doesn’t mean we can’t succeed. It just means our journey is a little harder, a little longer, but no less possible.

It’s easy to feel disheartened when someone breezes through a topic you’ve been struggling with for days. But don’t compare yourself to them. Compare yourself to who you were last week, or yesterday. Our progress isn’t defined by others, but rather how much we’re willing to push, day after day.

Yes, you’ll get frustrated. Yes, you’ll have days where nothing makes sense. But if you stay consistent, if you put in that extra effort, it will click. And when it does, it’s one of the most satisfying feelings in the world, not just because you understood something, but because you earned it. 6. Consult the Right People

I’ve been extremely fortunate to cross paths with lecturers who were nothing short of amazing. Mentors who genuinely cared and went above and beyond their responsibilities. That said, I’ve also encountered those who, for reasons beyond their control, had seemingly given up on their students.

I won’t name names, but my point is this: seek out and surround yourself with the right mentors. Appreciate the ones who show up for you. These are the people you should ingratiate yourself with: learn from them, speak to them, and let them guide you forward.

Sometimes, all it takes is one good conversation with the right person to unlock something in you: a new way to understand a topic, a shift in mindset, or simply the motivation to keep going. Do not underestimate the value of a teacher who genuinely believes in you, even when you don’t quite believe in yourself.

But here’s the catch: you must take initiative. Don’t wait for help to fall on your lap. Raise your hand, stay after class, book consults, send emails. Show that you care. You’ll be surprised how many teachers respond when they see effort. If you don’t find that support immediately, don’t be discouraged. Keep looking. Sometimes the best mentors aren’t always the most obvious ones: they might be a dean, a lecturer, or even a friend who’s just one step ahead of you.

At the end of the day, JC is not a journey meant to be walked alone. You’re allowed to ask for help. You’re allowed to seek guidance. And you absolutely deserve teachers who will walk alongside you not just as instructors, but as pillars in your toughest moments.

In summary, these are the 6 Principles that have served me well—principles that helped a once-forgotten student, who seriously considered transferring to a Polytechnic, eventually study at NUS. I’ll release a full guide on how to survive university life in the future—but that’s a story for another day.

On a similar note, I want to take this opportunity to express my deepest thanks to the four biggest mentors who stood by me during my JC journey:

Mr Desmond Lee – then Dean and HOD of Mathematics

Mr Salahuddin Ibrahim – my Biology teacher, and now a lead teacher at the Academy of Teachers for MOE

Mr David Hoe – my Economics tutor, now a Member of Parliament

Mr Jowell Yong – my Economics tutor for two years

Be it a passing conversation, the countless hours of consultations, an arm around the shoulder, or a timely pep talk when I was at my lowest… I felt it. I understood it. And most importantly, I reflected on it. Back then, I could see why no teacher would want to come near me with a 10-foot pole. But none of you gave up on me, and for that, you have my eternal gratitude.

Just recently, I returned to visit my old school and met one of you again—still teaching. When we shook hands and had a brief chat about my future career path, I could feel the pride radiating from you. That short interaction made every bit of effort I’d put in feel truly worth it. And I think you’d agree: it was worth it for both of us.

I’ll definitely write a deeper, more detailed post on my experiences with each of you in time to come. But for now, I’ll leave it at this.

To the future graduates reading this: Good luck. More importantly, keep inspiring yourself from within. Keep these 6 commandments in mind and gentlemen I promise you: We will be successful. You got this.

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Jul' 25: My Biggest Weakness

Prologue This draft was written in late 2021/22, part of my personal archive. I’ve got plenty more still in the chamber, though these days I’m more focused on writing new things. Still, it’s interesting to look back and see how much I’ve grown, learned, and changed over the years. Later edited in 2025.

"What's your biggest weakness?" the interviewer asked, as my toes fidgeted beneath the table.

Well, that’s quite a loaded question, don’t you think? Especially for someone in their early 20s, barely out of school and still figuring things out. To add to the pressure, this was my very first job interview for a temporary role I applied to just to fill a gaping void of time before University began.

I don’t remember what the job was about, how I responded, or how the interview even went. All I really remember was that I didn’t get the job, and that I definitely should’ve prepared a lot more. Fast forward to today, now on the cusp of graduating and having just survived the job hunt cycle a few months ago, that same question has crept back into my thoughts.

What is my biggest weakness?

I’ve spent most of my life as a confident individual... borderline cocky, if I’m being honest. I believed there was no mountain too high, no valley too deep. I stayed in check: never smoked, never got into trouble, surrounded myself with good people. I'm a natural orator, able to express myself eloquently and articulate thoughts clearly in both casual conversations and formal settings. Whether it's sharing ideas, presenting to a crowd, or simply navigating tough discussions, I’ve always found comfort in words and the power they carry. I prided myself on being a good judge of character, and as an extrovert, I naturally saw myself thriving in client-facing roles. Easy. No problem. de nada.

But after some honest soul-searching, I’ve come to realise that even within what I thought was a near-perfect version of myself, there are cracks. Flaws that I had either ignored or didn’t know existed. Flaws that have to change, no matter how solid the structure may seem. After all, it’s rarely the shoes that stop a man from finishing the marathon — it’s the tiny, nagging grain of sand that’s been there since the very start.

Without further ado, let's dive right in.

1. Patience

“Oh, you’re an impatient person... wow.” That would probably be the automatic response to what I’m about to say.

But hear me out. I’m not impatient without reason. I’ve always been able to appreciate and understand the challenges that come with old age, inexperience, or honest mistakes. These are natural rites of passage, and there’s little we can do but offer grace. What I do struggle with, however, is my low tolerance for people who are fully capable of doing something, but choose not to OR worse still, lean into laziness.

This used to bring out the worst in me, especially during my early university days. I set high standards not just for myself, but for those around me. I expected initiative, drive, and follow-through — and when those expectations weren’t met, it frustrated me deeply.

Over the past few years though, I’ve learnt to temper those expectations. Through a great deal of self-reflection, I’ve come to realise that my impatience was rooted not in malice, but in my perceived assessment of others’ potential. The reality is: not everyone operates the way you do. Passive-aggressiveness doesn’t solve anything, and in fact, only sours team dynamics. Additionally, you’ll inevitably encounter free-riders in life — and that’s just an unfortunate truth.

These days, I try to focus on what I can control: my own reactions, my own learning. The rest? Let it be.

2. Over-thinking

I am afraid of failure. Very, very afraid. So much so that it became second nature for me to think, consult, then think again, often in loops. I’m not a fan of unknowns, guesses, or what teenagers call “vibes.” My personal mantra is simple: if I’m making a decision based on vibes, I haven’t done my job. Uncertainty, to me, signals either poor preparation or a dangerously low bar for satisfaction.

But here’s the catch: how is overthinking not a good thing?

One word: time. As I inch closer to entering the corporate world, I’ve come to realise that the luxury of thinking through every single option doesn’t always exist. Scratch that... it won’t exist. Time constraints are real. Decisions must be made, and quickly.

And those are the two main things that I consider my Achilles’ heel. Not exactly deal-breakers, but flaws I’ve come to acknowledge through reflection. I’m not perfect. In fact, far from it; but I like to believe I’m a work in progress. Self-improvement, to me, isn’t about dramatic reinvention. It’s about catching yourself a little quicker each time, asking tougher questions, and doing better when you know better. This journey of refining who I am is ongoing, and honestly, that’s the point. Its a to-be-continued for a chapter of my life. Today's me understands that questions about weaknesses aren't designed to make you out yourself as incompetent. Instead, interviews are a mini tug of war — a chance to show that you can handle pressure, that you're reflective, adaptable, and able to carry yourself with a touch of showmanship. It’s also about proving that you can gel well with future colleagues. Still, I’ve come to appreciate how valuable these hard-hitting questions can be.

Future Basketball Hall-of-Famer Russell Westbrook has one of my favourite quotes of all time:

"I say, 'Why not?' to everything."

There’s something so powerful about those two words. It’s a challenge to the status quo, a refusal to be boxed in by fear, doubt, or the limits others set for you. It embodies audacity, the kind that drives people to take risks, break barriers, and chase after what they want, even if it seems unrealistic. “Why not?” isn’t just a question; it’s a mindset.

And maybe that's what we should all adopt when it comes to weakness. What's your biggest weakness? My next post will dive into modern culture.

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Jul' 25: The Ultimate Guide to Friendships

Human beings are wired to form meaningful connections. Whether at work, in school, or at home, these bonds are what make the world go round. They build trust, nurture relationships, and foster compassion. It’s through friendship that we check in on one another, meet up for a quiet cup of tea, or go out of our way to buy each other thoughtful gifts. That ... that is friendship.

Everyone understands the difference between relationships and friendships: one implying romance or commitment, the other companionship and mutual care. But what exactly sets friendship apart from mere acquaintanceship? It’s a subtler line, harder to define. Lets explore that further. Friendships & Acquaintanceship

Acquaintances may know your name, your schedule, what course you're taking, what projects you're working on, or even what your hobbies are. They might smile at you in the hallway, exchange pleasantries, and even follow your updates out of courtesy. But friends, on the other hand, know how you’re really doing. They notice the small shifts in your mood, they check in without needing a reason, and they show up when it matters. Friendship requires intention: a willingness to invest time, vulnerability, and care beyond surface-level exchanges. It’s not just proximity or shared context that makes someone a friend, but rather choice.

There’s no official test or checklist to distinguish friends from acquaintances, but the difference tends to show itself over time. Acquaintances are the people you get along with in shared spaces: classes, workplaces, group chats. You laugh with them, maybe even share a meal or two. But friends? Friends are the ones who stay when the assignment ends, when the group dissolves, when life gets messy. They remember things that matter to you, not just because you told them once, but because they listened.

If you really wanted a “test,” it might look something like this: When you're struggling, who follows up without being asked? When something great happens, who’s genuinely happy for you — not silently comparing or pulling away? Who are the people you don’t have to perform for, the ones you can sit with in silence without feeling awkward? True friendship doesn’t demand grand gestures — it just consistently chooses to be there. The Difference between Men and Women

This topic isn’t spoken about enough, but platonic friendships between men and women often play out quite differently... at least from my observations. Women tend to maintain their friendships with more intention. They check in on one another, share life updates regularly, make time to eat together, go for movies, pottery classes, spin cycle classes — the whole shabang. It’s an experience-rich kind of friendship, with memories actively created and documented, often with lots of photos. Like two peas in a pod... or three, or four, or five if it’s a larger friendship circle. There’s a certain vibrance and emotional closeness that seems built into it, making everyone seem like a part of the team.

Men, on the other hand… oh boy. Where do I even begin?

As a male myself, I’ll admit it. We’re emotionally stunted, quiet creatures who tend to keep things bottled up. Expressing our feelings, even just to ourselves, is a monumental task. No amount of encouragement or “safe space” talk makes it significantly easier. Whether it’s because of societal expectations, upbringing, personality, or even personal choice (which I won’t dive into here), the reality remains: it’s tough for us to say things like “I need you, man” or “Can you help me?”

However, somehow, between us male friends, there’s this quiet, unspoken understanding that we’re doing just fine. We don’t need to constantly check in or share daily affirmations. Instead, we root for each other silently, respecting each other’s space without making a big show of it. And on the rare occasion that we do meet? It’s like no time has passed at all - beers, cheers, and laughter flow effortlessly. It’s honestly quite impressive, if I may say so myself.

That said, I’ll be the first to admit: male friendships might not be the best when it comes to emotional development. I’d imagine many of my female friends would agree with that assessment too. Which brings me to a long-standing belief I hold: that friendship groups with a healthy mix of both genders tend to stand the test of time. The guys act as the quiet, steady pillars of solidarity, while the girls are the caretakers of emotional depth, like the custodians of the temple. Together, they form a balanced, cohesive friendship cathedral that offers both strength and sanctuary.

Losing Friends

Losing carefully built connections is indeed a touchy subject. Something nurtured over months, years, or even decades — slowly eroding right before your eyes — can be incredibly painful. It’s like trying to hold onto a fistful of sand: the tighter you grip, the more slips through your fingers. And in the end, you’re left with nothing but the memory of what once was.

Strangely enough, the loss of friendships doesn’t seem to affect me as deeply.

Let me break down why i feel so.

Say your name is Arthur, and you run Arthur's Barbecue Ranch. You serve the best ribs in town (or so you think), and people flock to your place. Some are curious first-timers, others are loyal patrons who’ve been coming for decades.

I find friendships are a lot like those customers at the ranch. You meet new people constantly. Some try what you offer, enjoy the experience, and stick around. Others might take one bite and decide it’s not for them, never to return. And that’s okay! Not every connection will last. But the ones who keep coming back, week after week, year after year... those are the people who truly matter. They’re the ones who'll be standing beside you, cheering you on through life’s milestones. Those are your groomsmen or bridesmaids. Those are your true friends, your lifelong regulars in the grand barbecue of life.

Of course, some might still feel down, and rightfully so. Losing a friendship that you fought hard to build is never easy, and it’s not something anyone can just brush off. I’m not advocating for people to cut others out carelessly, but rather to embrace the reality that people come and go in life. Sometimes, clinging onto something that no longer fits can do more harm than good. Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting or discarding the bond you once had. No... it simply means making peace with change. Trust that the person you're parting ways with will find their own happy place. And if one day they look back fondly on the memories and decide to reach out again, you’ll know that you’re okay, and that you’ve always been.

Of course, I don’t claim to be an expert on friendships — far from it. Take what I say with a grain of salt. Everyone has their own unique experiences, both good and bad, and that’s what makes us human after all. But if you're here looking for some guidance or a way to frame your own thoughts, I’d like to leave you with three key takeaways from my own journey: 1. Losing friendships doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. Sometimes, people grow apart, and that’s okay. It’s not always personal.

2. Men and women often maintain friendships differently. These dynamics aren’t better or worse — just different, shaped by social norms, personality, and emotional expression.

3. There is a clear distinction between friends and acquaintances. Knowing who truly stands by you helps set realistic expectations and build deeper, more meaningful connections.

Thank you for joining me on this pitstop of life. Godspeed.

What about you? What do you think of friends? My next post will dive into my biggest weakness, an archive from 2022.

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Jul' 25: Idealism

Prologue This draft was written in late 2023, part of my personal archive. I’ve got plenty more still in the chamber, though these days I’m more focused on writing new things. Still, it’s interesting to look back and see how much I’ve grown, learned, and changed over the years. Later edited in 2025. I’ve always been a skeptic, a non-believer, someone who keeps their rose-tinted glasses firmly at home. It’s very much a product of my upbringing. Growing up, one Chinese proverb was repeated in my family time and time again: “There’s no free meals on earth.” Nothing comes without effort, and everything has a cost. In today’s society, I find that most people generally share this sentiment. Strangers who fire off LinkedIn connections usually aren’t looking to make genuine connections — more often than not, they’re selling a course or pitching financial advice. Someone approaching you on the train probably isn’t lost, but trying to recruit you into a Christian society. Nothing comes free, and you learn that quickly.

I met someone who challenged everything I thought I knew about this. But the more I got to know them, the more I began to understand why my dad was always so insistent on teaching me how the world works early on.

How do you make it far with an Idealistic mindset? I don’t mean to be rude. It’s not judgment, but rather the curious, questioning part of me trying to make sense of it all.

Idealism is assuming the best in everyone — that people have your best interests at heart, and that they’re rooting for you to succeed. And sure, it’s fair to extend that trust to your family and close friends. But shouldn’t there be some boundaries when it comes to acquaintances and strangers? Blind optimism can be comforting, but without a bit of caution, it quickly becomes naïveté. Idealism is often painted as a virtue, the belief that people are inherently good, that systems are fair, and that with enough effort, everything will work out the way it should. It sounds noble, even aspirational. But in reality, unchecked idealism can be dangerous. It creates blind spots, leaving you vulnerable to being taken advantage of, manipulated, or hurt by those who don’t share the same values. It assumes fairness in an unfair world, and good intentions in places where self-interest often reigns. Idealism makes it hard to accept that sometimes people will act selfishly, that relationships can be one-sided, and that effort doesn’t always equal reward. Worse still, it can make you second-guess your instincts — dismissing red flags in the name of “giving people the benefit of the doubt.” And when things go wrong, idealists often blame themselves, not because they did anything wrong, but because they believed the world would treat them as kindly as they treated others. There’s nothing wrong with seeing the good in people — but when it comes without boundaries, realism, or self-protection, idealism can quietly chip away at your sense of trust, clarity, and peace.

Take, for example, a conversation we had about the boycotting of all institutions that are perceived to stand with Israel in the Israel-Palestine conflict. For the record, I’m not a supporter of either side. I recognise the complexity, nuance, and deep historical pain that exists on both ends. However, from an idealist’s lens, there’s often a belief that moral clarity is simple: that by cutting ties, boycotting, or denouncing, one is taking a righteous stand — a pure, uncompromising position that proves moral alignment.

But the real world rarely operates in black and white. Institutions are not monoliths, and to assume that every member, every action, or every affiliation represents one singular stance is both reductive and, in many cases, unfair. Idealism, in this context, pushes people toward absolutes — to act swiftly and decisively in the name of justice, often without pausing to consider nuance, collateral impact, or the diversity of thought within the very institutions being condemned. The danger is that this form of idealism can begin to mirror the rigidity it claims to oppose. It risks silencing conversation instead of encouraging it, cancelling instead of engaging, and punishing instead of understanding. In seeking moral clarity, it may unintentionally breed division, alienate potential allies, and simplify a deeply painful and complex issue into a binary of good versus evil.

Another example of where idealism can blur reality is in staying friends with an former partner. It’s often seen as a sign of emotional growth, or the belief that two people can rise above their history and maintain a platonic bond. Idealism tells us this is mature, even admirable. But more often than not, it overlooks the emotional complexity involved. It assumes that both people are on the same wavelength, equally ready to let go, to draw boundaries, and to genuinely move forward. Feelings don’t always fade in sync, and what starts as a well-intentioned friendship can easily reopen old wounds. Sometimes, holding on isn’t strength, just another way of not letting go.

These examples are a non-exhaustive list of opinions I have noticed with idealists, without even touching on the smaller, nagging issues like group mates trying to undermine you, colleagues deliberately jeopardising your work, and friends who secretly harbour resentment. It’s painful to watch someone you care about get burned over and over again because of their unwavering optimism; and yet, somehow, they always find the strength to get back up, still holding on to the same hope that let them down time and time again.

I’m a thinker, an over-worrier: someone who replays possible scenarios in my head over and over again. But this one might be way above my pay grade. From the bottom of my heart, I truly hope they manage to navigate life’s challenges, be it education, career, relationships without a single hiccup.

Ill end with my favourite quote from William F. Buckley, Jr.

Idealism is fine, but as it approaches reality, the costs become prohibitive.

My next post will dive into my thoughts on friendships.

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Jul' 25: Why I run

I want to start off by telling you a story of a 16 year old. Someone accused of betrayal, of being honour-less and ultimately the source of pain.

I’ll spare you the full details, but I was that 16-year-old. Maybe it would’ve been too much for any teenager; and honestly, maybe it was too much for me too. But that experience carved out something in me that still shapes who I am today. How did it go so so wrong for this 16 year old navigating studies and friendships?

In retrospect, after almost a decade later I still don’t know exactly how it went pear-shaped this quickly. And truthfully, if I were thrown back into that moment, I’d probably make the same choices again. Maybe that’s something to unpack on a different day... but that’s neither here nor there.

It was hard. Really, really hard. Walking around with a smile when deep down I had my conscience held high. The weight wasn’t just in the accusations, rather the silence and cold shoulders that followed. To my former friends: No, I wasn’t clueless or blind to what was happening around me. I chose silence not out of ignorance, but out of respect for the friendship I had with him. I respected that little golden slice of friendship we had too much to turn it into a battleground. I mean… what’s the point? Some things felt better left unsaid, not because they didn’t matter, but because the friendship once did. Back to the story.

Around the same time all of this was happening, I had enrolled in the Varsity Track & Field team. And suddenly, life didn’t feel quite as heavy the moment I laced up my trainers. At first, it wasn’t about healing — just movement, something to keep going when everything else felt stuck. But over time, it became the one place where I didn’t have to explain myself. No expectations, no pain, just the rhythm of my breath and the road ahead.

Soon enough, I started looking forward to every training session, and thank God it was multiple times a week. For every frustration I carried, I ran a little further, a little harder and went home tired, exhausted but happy. There were times I lost count of how many laps or sets I’d done. Maybe that’s just how I coped — by tuning out the noise and focusing solely on the tarmac ahead.

Let me paint a picture: Close your eyes and feel your heartbeat — badum, badum, badum. Everything around you slows. You’re panting heavily, your vision blurred from the heat, your legs burning as you round the D-ring for the tenth time… and yet, somehow, you feel at peace. That’s what I found in running, the very thing people search for in a hobby: solace.

Some might say I’m a bit sadistic, and maybe they’re right. I do like the pain. I do enjoy the feeling of breathlessness. I was never the best runner. I’ve torn and bruised ligaments, limped around for two months, and still, I found something I thoroughly enjoy — running.

And just like that, that 16 year old, in his pair of worn-out blue Nike trainers, ran and ran and ran. By the time he graduated, the shoes were beyond worn — torn, tattered, with at least 3,000 miles on them. He never could get rid of it as he had found something in them. Something that, as the prison warden in The Shawshank Redemption once told Andy Dufresne as he handed him the bible: “Salvation lies within.”

Many years later, I’ve moved past running as a coping mechanism. Looking back, it probably wasn’t the healthiest thing to jeopardise my ankles just to protect my mental state. These days, I’ve found better ways to manage my problems. Still, running remains a guilty pleasure of mine. Like that first love you kissed and never quite forgot, no matter how awkward or embarrassing it all turned out.

Now I see running as just a pastime, a way to stay fit. Every now and then, I still default to it, especially when I’m angry, sad, or disappointed. Just a little over a year ago, I found myself at a lighthouse more than a 30 minute drive away from home sweating, panting, and staring up at the stars past midnight. I must’ve dozed off at some point, because the next thing I remember was being woken up by two police officers. They breathalysed me and asked what a young man was doing, crying at a lighthouse at 2 a.m. On those days, I run not for the sake of health, but to find that feeling again. That peace. That release. Crying, maybe, but letting the sweat and tears blur together just to feel human again.

I’m choosing to share this story now as a sign that I’ve grown. That I can look back without flinching. That I can use this story as writing practice. Not too long ago, you couldn’t have pried this story out of me, especially not from behind the smile of someone who always seemed cheerful and extroverted. And this is why I run. What's your story?

My next post will dive into some of my life choices.

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Jul' 25: Betterment

Betterment doesn’t always look like some grand, cinematic transformation. It’s not a glow-up, rather it’s a decision you make in silence, over and over again.

It’s breaking cycles, not in dramatic bursts, but in steady, awkward, human attempts. You slip, then try again. You lose momentum, then restart. No one claps, no one sees it, but deep down, you know.

Betterment is setting boundaries in times of uncertainty. It’s learning to rest without guilt. Most importantly, It’s being honest with yourself, even when it hurts.

On this July 14th of 2025, with my commencement pending in just a few days, I find myself thinking,

Graduating is weird. Everyone congratulates you, tells you it’s a new beginning, a clean slate, the start of something big. Kind of like High School Musical, Start of Something New; that moment full of hope and possibility when the future feels wide open, and everything seems fresh and exciting. But no one really prepares you for the part after: the quiet, unstructured middle where you’re not quite sure what’s next.

I thought finishing school would feel like a door swinging open. Instead, it feels like being dropped into a wide, open space with no signs, no syllabus, no due dates. Just life. And me. Figuring it out as I go.

And honestly? That’s where betterment is starting to make sense in a whole new way. It’s not about GPA, or internships, or building a LinkedIn-perfect life. It’s about waking up and choosing to move, even when I don’t have to. It’s figuring out what I want, outside of grades, rubrics, or what my major “should” lead to.

Sometimes betterment looks like updating my resume. Other times it’s realising I need a week to rest. It’s learning that structure isn’t the enemy, but it also doesn’t have to be rigid. It’s redefining success in a world that no longer gives me checkpoints to pass.

I’m not trying to become a different person. I’m just trying to become more honest, more steady, more me. And maybe that’s the most underrated version of betterment there is. My next post will dive into some of my life choices.