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One of the most unforgettable moments I've had is when I failed my driving test. It felt like I was standing at the edge of a cliff - heart pounding, sweat dropping, lips shaking. How can I fail such a test? I knew the rules and I felt confident in my driving. It's that damn speed limit. 50 on a 40. I was so nervous that my knuckles turned white and my hands trembled. My mom and my dad cheered me up and bought ice cream to ease the disappointment. I went back to practicing and worked hard for the next test. My failure reminded me that it isn't the end but a one step closer to success. I finally passed on my second attempt, and all my hard work paid off.

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I was overwhelmed as I tried to navigate through the herds of sweaty market-goers. We were all so packed together that I could smell the floral perfume of the old lady beside me. The sun shot off of the gleaming jewlery neatly displayed on a few of the stands, enticing my eye.

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the market was overcrowded with people everywhere pushing and shoving each other to look at the merchandise. walking around there was a heavy aroma coming from the food stands. walking around all the merchandise deciding what to get as a souvenir.

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It was magnetic. Bodies swarmed to each stall like bees to a hive, collecting their honey. Each stall a different hive, focused on their own accumulations. As we floated through the ocean of excited voices, my eyes were drawn to each vibrant stall, flaunting crafts of all colours, shapes and sizes. My attention, however, is quickly snatched away by the cozy, sweet smell of powdered Churros and other sugar-riddled treats. Later on, leaving the market, my arms cradle countless souvenirs, each unique in its own manner. I didn't want to leave, this felt like my place to be... my colony if you will.

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What we do in the shadows is proof human creation has peaked. A Homo Sapien creation reaching such great hights, with a budget less than that of a house, is now unheard of in our present time. It's a film that unlocked something deep inside me. A film that truly moved me as a person. I don't know if it was the cheap jokes, the weak plot or the lame mockumentary interviews but never before or after this movie has geniune human art caused such a ball of anger and distaste to form in my heart. What we do in the shadows really is the pinacle of rage bait. Once viewed you can tell every detail has been meticulously chosen and crafted to bring out the worst response from an audience. Waititi's ability to confidentaly display and share this inherant talent to give viewers such vile reactions to art is so rare, it brings a tear of appreciation to my eye's.

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Thinking back to that day, the day I failed my driving test. My stomach still drops thinking about it weeks later. Id lost all hope and desire to get my licence. As my friends started passing the more miserable I got. Why am I so stupid, Am I a bad driver? My parents noticed a change in behaviour from me. Instead of grilling me they started to inspire me. From their lecture I realised I had to get out there and stop feeling sorry for myself. In order to progress in anything in life you have to step outside your comfort zone. For me that was trying again. After further reflection, failing my test was a good thing. It was a wake up call to go out there and try again, weather that was my driving test, school or sports.

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travel writing. - the market was crowded and claustrophobic, swarming people leaving a hum in the air. the smouldering heat of the summer day sat heavy on my skin, radiating an energy only brought on by the freedom of holiday. laughter and music flowed through the many stalls-

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I cringe every time i remember it. Sitting in the hard plastic chair, my ears ringing in the silent room, staring at the red 'failed'. 31 out of 35. A number i grew to hate. My parents tried to reassure me, everyone fails the first time, its not the end of the world. In the moment it felt like it was, like the ceiling was falling into pieces around me and the floor was giving out. I spent hours and hours studying more and more until the day came to retake the test.

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When I visited the hussling market, there where more smells than there was food. Through the midst of the choas of the market a small figurereen came into focus. This object symbolised my journey of getting to the place I am now. As I looked around past all of the hundreds of people scrurring past, I browsed the other stalls and isles, this place was so different from home, I felt immersed in the culture, I felt a sense of joy as I went deeper into the hussling markets.

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the markets were hot and packed. I was trying to intertwine my way through the crowd by we are all shoulder to shoulder, like sardines in a can. the fragrant smell of local cuisines coluor the atmoshpheir. rich spicy dishes clash with sweet desserts. each stool had its own personalty, with and array of crafts and souvenirs statically placed. the stools brightly coloured signs gleam in the harsh sunlight, making them even more appealing. I find myself shopping at a souvenir stool. Purchasing memorabilia trinkets to take back home, in hope they'd transport me back to the moment when i look at them.

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Stepping into the markets felt like being hit by a hot, sweaty wave of people. A wave that smelt of cooking oil, and sanded down wood. More smells enter my nostrills, 3 after another, as i take one step further into the busy maze. After trembling my way through for a while, i managed to trade a small elephant coloured in bright yellow ink, as a souvenir from Thailand.

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Swarms of people traveled in uncoordinated lines throughout the bustling market. continuous rows of food and crafts dazzled temptingly in the florescent sunlight. the temptation became uncontrollable, the pungent smells and bright colours fogged my mind. all thoughts of expense slid out of my head as I handed over half of my money. in return a unless, plastic souvenir.

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I remember when I first failed my restricted license test. It wasn't the greatest day of my life. I was so confident that I would pass, that when I became very disappointed in myself when I failed. My parents tried cheering me up saying that failing is normal, but it didn't quite help. I then studied relentlessly for weeks until I was confident enough to try again. When the instructor told me I had passed I screamed in happiness. That helped me understand that failing is normal and most times we will fail before we achieve our goals.