Four-five rocks!

School is my own personal playground.

Studies are my swing. I feel joyful when I swing high up, the way I feel when I get outstanding results. Every good thing come to an end, and what goes up will eventually comes down. That applies to me on the swing and the same goes for my studies. From time to time I get good grades while bad results dampen my mood every now and then. The undefeatable gravitational pull symbolises the never ending knowledge that we can obtain, no matter how high I swing up, there’s always a reason for me to kick myself off the ground with my own feet to make myself feel good again, and while occasionally a friend/teacher will be there to push my back should I need that extra help.

Friends made in school are my seesaw. Attempting to enjoy myself on the seesaw alone is equivalent to me trying to use my toes to play the piano. To really enjoy every special moment, every gruelling lesson, every particular event and activities, friends are really required to give me that further boost. Friends may not be my immediate relatives, and the distance between me and my friend on the seesaw proves precisely that. However, there’re no walls, boundaries or obstacles between me and my friend on the seesaw, I can relate my worries, joy, whatever emotions to them seamlessly. When I’m down, my friends on the other end will lift me up time and time again, and I’ll do the same back for them.

Teachers are my monkey bars. They provide me with solid support and lend a hand to me to get to the other end successfully. However teachers are of no use if I myself do not even attempt to grab hold of them firmly in my hands and embrace the security it can give me. If I myself do not want to improve myself, even the most proficient teachers will not be able to teach me anything. In my life, I’m certain that I will meet several teachers and the numerous bars show that. Each bar might have different length, but their objective is the same – to give me assistance, to guide me along and to prevent me from crashing straight down to the cruel and hard ground.

The bad things learnt in school are my slide. I do not only learn good things in school, I get to learn bad ones such as vulgarities too. They might make me feel high temporarily, the way I feel when the breeze caresses my face and hair when I slide, down. I emphasised on the word ‘down’ because even though I might feel good momentarily while sliding ‘down’, I am bound to hit the ground eventually and the only way to prevent myself to bumping into the hard ground is by stopping myself with my feet – which symbolises my own self control.

The school is my playground, with my main focus on making friends, studying and seeking help when necessary from teachers and friends.

It ‘is’ my second home instead of it ‘is like’ my second home.

Xinwei