I'm practically under house arrest. I can't go out. I can't go down. I can't do anything except eat, read, write, and sleep. Luckily, there's always that surreal, kaleidoscopic world of imagination to wander about in. One thing I learnt last night before I fell asleep is that there is a subtle but significant difference between letting you mind wander and wandering in your mind.

* At this point, the reader who has just left JC is advised NOT TO CONTINUE as they may find following content highly disturbing. The blogger accepts no responsibility whatsoever for any harm caused to mental health that may result from UNWISE disregard of this warning. However, readers who do not fit the above description may safely continue as the following will probably be quite boring to you anyway.

As I tried to fall asleep last night, my utterly bored mind decided that it wanted to go for a walk. So I let it. What I didn't realise was that it was going to take a walk inside itself.

You see, it is perfectly safe to wander about in an imaginary world. Such a world is outside of yourself or maybe made up of bits of your subconscious that really have no real significance. It is, however, simply not safe to poke around your own mind. There are places in there that should be kept locked up and the key melted down and made into something else. If you've watched films like Dreamcatcher or read books like Hannibal which talk about the Memory Place, you'd know what I'm talking about. Imagine a place like a house or castle or file cabinet where all your thoughts and memories are kept. When you want to see your old schoolteacher, you can go into the castle for example, walk to the door marked childhood school memories and there your teacher will be, explaining the difference between solid and liquid just as she used to.

So I wandered in this place which I thought was Imagination. But no. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to write the sign on the door and lock it up. Pure laziness. So I went in and guess what I found?

Behind the door a medium sized hall. Non air-conditioned. The ceiling very high. Grey tables and chairs arranged in neat rows. Large pasar malam type fans at various places. At each table sat a student frantically writing, scratching his/her head or just plain staring at the lofty ceiling in desperation. The EXAM HALL. Just like I remembered it was on the day of the Econs 'A' Level Exam.

I saw myself scribbling frantically. I heard myself hoping that my made up explanations would somehow uncannily hit on the answer, all the while knowing it was bullshit.

And then the tidal wave of fear hit. The memory of anxiety. I'd almost forgotten. Kicked it into a corner and pretended that everything had ended when the exams had concluded. But it's not true. I still don't know the results although I seriously think there won't be any As on the dreaded slip of paper.

I guess most of you A level takers have also put the exams behind you. But now, sneakily I should think I have unlocked the door in your memory place labelled "I am so going to fail the As!". HAH! Aren't you scared now? Don't you remember how you failed to answer the question? Don't you recall how you realised that you got the multiple choice questions all wrong because where everyone had put "A" you had answered "C"? Your bowels are clenching in fear aren't they? You AREN'T going to do well, you know. It's going to be a permanent stain on your academic records. Really. It is very, very possible.

So you see, the mind is not a safe place to wander in and I do serious apologise if this unsettling account has unsettled you and made you remember that the worst of the 'A' levels is not over.

Don't blame me. I did warn you and you chose to ignore it. Curiosity may not kill but there are certain things that you really shouldn't be curious about for you own psychological well-being.

I hope you sleep well tonight.