When I was about 4 or 5 (or whatever age that I first started having a conscious memory), I had an autograph book. Well, that's what we called it anyway. It wasn't a book collecting famous people's signatures, but one where I'd ask people I know to write in it. Something like a message/mini-biography book. I remembered it with a cover that had some pastel shades of blue, pink, with random shapes or nature objects, maybe it was a view, or maybe it had a cartoon character on it. But I can clearly remember it being a rectangular shape, where the width of the book is the longer side of the rectangle.

I don't know if that book is still lying somewhere in the house, dusty, yellowed and stashed somewhere beneath all those years of unused stationery. Perhaps it is. If it is, I'd love to look at it again and see what the kid me wrote in it, and who else she managed to get a hold of to write in it too. It would be a delightful afternoon activity to immerse myself in my once old treasured autograph book.

I remember, every couple of weeks (or maybe even days!) I would write a new page about me (talk about narcissistic. No, it was probably to hone my penmanship - though that didn't turn out so well). It usually has the following structure:

Name:
Age:
Sex: (Didn't know that this word is not so innocent then and also, wouldn't it ALWAYS stay the same? 'Name' also does, but this is funnier)
Ambition: (Now this is the field that changes A LOT)
Favourite Food: (sometimes abbreviated to F.Food - it felt like such professionalism to shorten them)
Favourite Drink:
Hobby:

I guess that the frequency at which I 'update' my autograph book is due to the fact that I was probably a fickle AND narcissistic child (I'm not anymore; a child that is).

The more interesting field is 'Ambition'. Perhaps what was written is because they were the ONLY occupations I knew at that age, and when you're that young and naive, anything in its simplest sense sounds infinitely amazing or at the very least, doable.
And sure enough, if my recollections are anywhere near accurate, I remember writing 'Doctor', 'Lawyer' and even 'Pilot'. Healing the sick - noble; passing judgment on matters right and wrong - honourable; flying planes, well, flying is just mad awesome - FAWESOME.
Little did I know I am not anywhere close to that now. I am pretty damn sure that I didn't even understand what an engineer is at the time. I vaguely remember that I thought that an engineer's job scope is very close to that of a mechanics, which seemed messy and heavy work, terribly not what I aim for in life.
By golly, was I an uninformed child or what.

 Do I regret it? Do I regret 'disappointing' my child-self? Do I regret having not picked something I truly believed that I would have even the slightest ounce of interest in, rather than giving in to what I thought (or what other people thought and thus greatly influenced my choice, inevitably) was good for me?
Yes and no.
Yes, because in a sense, I do not feel chiefly gratified. I am frustrated and disillusioned, in some sense. I know most of my posts in this blog since 2009 resonates with this onerous regretful tone, but then again, doesn't this prove my point that this is nothing that I truly want very badly?
And isn't wanting something badly enough the reason for being continuously motivated?
Unfortunately, no, I do not want anything badly enough in this area; just the scroll and the robe to signify the end of my degree, which inadvertently, may decide the course of my life/career (but we all know a career drives the path of our lives, is it not?)
And no, because if it wasn't for that choice, I may never have ended up where I am now. I may not have had the chance to experience this country, to make the friends I have, and to learn what I did not want in my life. Painful lesson at times, yes. But we can't have it all smooth-sailing; it would be to devastating when the ship hits rocks and we have absolutely no idea what to do then from our lack of painful obstacles.
This contradicting answer of yes and no are actually separate aspects.

But the point I want to make is this. I am coming closer to the end of this hurdle. Even though I know that it will make me glad that I can finally say, "I'm done. Goodbye forever, suckers", I still have a path in front of me that is still opaque. I worry, of course, but truth is, I really can't plan out a future for myself. If that is the case, will I ever have one that I can truly be happily anxious despite its uncertainty?

The answer is to be...... only God knows.

I hope not to sound like a fatalist, but surely, there are some things we have no control over, right?
So why can't I be what I want to be?
Maybe it's because it wasn't meant to be. It's not like you were wounded in the course of it, were you?

No, I wasn't.

But the wishful half of me still wishes that I had chosen a different path. Can't say that I can shut that half of her up, though I can still be some things, and that is a hopeful thought.