The town of life

From a distance the dusty road sign seems like any other, white paint crackling on an aged pine board. It is only when you come closer that you see that this is a sign like no other - it is a sign in a town called life.

And every now and then in our journey we call life, we encounter these dusty old signs and we are made to choose.

The old man who had lived much of life wheezed his old-man wheeze, and paused to ponder the consequences of his choice.

"But if I go one way I cannot go the other way," the old man pondered, brows furrowed like deep tracks in the earth.

And as the old man thought out loud, a young boy came to his side. The youth took a quick glance and beaming with joy turned eastwards and began to run.

"You know not what lies ahead, dear boy!" the old man shouted in warning, steadfastly holding his ground.

"Oh yes, oh yes, I do. I choose life, the town of life," he replied, to the old man who had not moved an inch.

And the old man sat and pondered.

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With the FYP more or less done, many of us fourth years have already begun the search for gainful employment. Some of the successful applicants so far have snagged jobs as government people (MFA, EDB), copywriters, pr professionals, journalists, academics, SIA stewards, unknown overseas jobs, etc. And the list grows every day.

It's all a bit bewildering and definitely surreal. This is what four years of work has yielded. Do I feel like I could've done better? Perhaps. I'll always wonder what would've happened if I didn't get those straight C's in year one. Aiyah, don't worry about it lah, it's almost over.

Ending depressing thought: I'm 25, what do I have to show for it?