I miss being sixteen. Today's the day it gets tired. So keep the blood in your head and your feet on the ground.

When does it reach the stage, when everything in the past and whatever you're dong now comes and bites you hard in the butt and starts to hold you down, forcing you to slow down and perhaps, even take a break?

Can you still afford to take that break? Perhaps, it could just be that little time for you to revitalise and push yourself even harder. Perhaps, it could be that little amount of time you need to hold on in order to reach the end, but you chose to give up. You look back and tell yourself in exasperation, "If only I had known...". But, it's too late, it doesn't work this way.

If it wasn't for what we did before, we wouldn't be what we are now. True. But, if it wasn't for what we did or didn't do in the past, we could have been someone we are not now.

Every step we take is a decision. One can be influenced, one can be intimidated, persuaded, convinced, or whatsoever into making a decison. Ultimately, we're the ones making the decision, walking the talk, answering for the consequences, it's going to make the person you will be 50 years down the road.

When it boils down to it, we're simply living our own life. Do or die, or at the very least, the effort put in, it's our call.

Now, as the realisation of all these starts sinking in, with the responsibilities and commitments tagging along, all I feel like doing now, is walk out of this office, and shut myself out from the rest of the world.

When you have both your feet stuck firmly on the ground, pegged by all these nonsense that you tie yourself up with, whether by choice, or by default, you just want to let go of it all, but you can't.

At this point, all you can do is lean onto another for support, borrowing each other's life experience as a source of comfort. You laugh. You cry. You enjoy. At the end of the day, you go back home, knowing that you're on your own once again.

And the vicious cycle continues. Without mercy.