As I am writing on a stale day like today thinking this will probably be my last column, I could not help but be a little retrospective. Writing a column is particularly challenging and cautious, not because there is nothing to write about, but because the column should not be an ode to dejection, and because, I am "confined to the narrowness of my experience that I should not obtrude my affairs so much on the notice of the readers." So, whilst contemplating on an apt topic that ticked all the boxes, I came across an idea that would be relevant to everyone one way or another.
 I realize that the twentysomething period might be the most turbulent, uncertain and defining decade in one’s lifetime. In hindsight, there is a large discrepancy between the expectation of the care-free, live-the-moment life-
style we dreamt of having once we turn twenty and the stark reality check of "what am I going to do for the rest of my life?" once we actually do turn twenty. In "The Defining Decade" by Meg Jay, she presents a metaphorical idea of getting stuck in the middle of the ocean, at a complete loss of direction by the homogeneity of the immediate surroundings. No matter which direction you look, you only see the same vast horizon faintly curved by the roundness of the Earth, encapsulated by the blueness of the sea and the cloudless sky. Although we do not subscribe to defeatism and a nihilistic view of life, how are we supposed to navigate ourselves out of this predicament? 
 There is—seems to be, at least—an endless possibility of things we could do, all of which has a seemingly equal probability of succeeding. Without any prior knowledge about the future—which is a paradoxical statement – there is no particular logic in favoring one choice over the other. The conflicting advice furthermore obfuscates the already mind bogglingly complicated decision-making. Some wise men would say, "Follow your heart and listen when it speaks to you", but the other equally wise men would say, "Sacrifice your present for your future." So, at the end of the day, we are left alone in the empty blue ocean without any reference point. The irrefutable truth, however, is the fact that time will come and go. I will have at some point graduated college, built my family and become a productive working member of the society. Although I do not subscribe to a deterministic view of the universe, to what extent of free will do I have in the grand scheme of a templatized life?
 Amongst all this uncertainty and turbulence, though, the only thing that keeps me going is the people around me. In a sense, we are all on the same boat, playing nature's dice game. I realized that, over the course of my early twenties, the only absolute value is our social ties. As we move along with our lives, the people surrounding us might change, but the fact that there will be people will not. If you look around, you have your friends from class who are equally as stressed about an assignment as you are; your supportive professor who wishes only the best; and your family who will always be there for you even in your worst hours. So, to conclude my slightly depressing and somber train of thought, our times here are not so bad after all—only because of the valuable friends and family that surround us.