Su's commencement took place today, the 8th of July 2009, at UCC. It was very overwhelming for me to see the masses graduating. It's a point of transition between being a student and an adulthood, and just like Linette said, suddenly you're thrust into the working world, and there's no after: no tutorials, no assignments, no lecturers.

i don't think that i've really grown up and move on until commencement, Michael Jackson's death, and the matured insights from a primary school friend really hits me that all of us are in a state of flux - an exciting flurry of change, not unlike other. I really think that this is it - the best time of our years, held within a tiny, precious bubble of change, with so many different factors that affect how we will lead our lives, and just like how I remarked to my interviewer "it's really what keeps me up at night".

For L, it becomes more difficult for her to pack up and leave Sg as the years go by because of her family, and her solid as rock relationship with her boyfriend. This was surprising to digest because the girl's been leaving Sg on a regular basis to intern overseas, and to hear her talk like that - wow. Leaving university and getting a job is a big deal, but so is meeting the one person you think you can spent the rest of your life with. I don't think any of us can safely declare that this person is the one person you'll be willing to give your life up for. I've known L for almost 10 years now, and to hear her talk like that - untainted by the many ups and downs relationships can bring - I can empathize how she feels this relationship is worth giving up something for. That is a really big thing. From being young and generally unaffected, to making plans that you think will be long - term, it takes a huge leap of faith.

Receiving the news of MJ's death was another shocker to me; like many others of my generation, I idolized MJ at his prime. I had the white glove, spin and turn, moonwalk routine down pat. I used to practise in my room for hours at end when I was 10. But like I explained to Mom, him dying is a big deal because he was THE pop icon for my generation - he was the face of multi-diversity before others knew there was such a thing, he was the androgynous figure that fashion editors love copying now, and he embraced futuristic themes in his videos, setting the way for other stars to follow. In fact, his balmain jacket, fedora hat, skinny jeans, and high-waisted pants for his female MV stars - all these made sporadic appearances here and then in the fashion trends, so I don't understand how a man who never faded out of the public's eye can just drop dead.

Beyond that, his death really made me question being ten again - the dreams you had, the things you were crazy about - as years go by, your dreams have been eroded and you are no longer as free as you once were as a child. Day by day, you lose the innocence, the curiosity that made growing up years a formative one. And you start to doubt yourself. At 10, you could just don the glove, the hat, and start moonwalking across the room. At 20, you shake if you even have to talk to a stranger.

Him dying just highlights the gaps between those years and what we've made of it. My generation, I feel, was quite different from the previous generation and the later generation. The generation before had the luxury of baby boomer parents. The generation after had extensive access to resources. My generation was the 1st generation to be exposed to computers, Internet, the world, at a young age, courtesy of baby boomer parents. But, we were also the first to grasp working knowledge of these things and what it means for future generations. What was cool? Pop culture, computers, and bio-sciences. Now that MJ is dead, you do wonder whether pop culture would die off, as the Internet and Twitter offers niche subcultures to sprout like beanstalks. Will there ever be a pop icon who would be so unifying in his reach? One really wonders.

Life is unpredictable and we hardly have time to plan before the next course starts. I suppose all we can do is keep our chins up and enjoy the ride...

I knew I had to find her, extract her undue promise! Pace quickening, I headed straight home and saw the chaos - my wife bouncing the baby, fat and gurgling, as always trying to pull at my tie. My wife was beautiful when I married her; a blushing bride, the chaste young virgin. Barely  2 years on: life's hard lines had started to settle in, painting a fixed scowl on her face.  Her face said it all when she turned to me : I Blame You for the months you take away, snatched out of my hands, for the youth starting to bury itself underneath those folds of flab.

I settled the baby in her cot, a misshapen lump of us. Brief thoughts flashed past - the poor thing, she didn't know what type of life she was going to lead. I avoided conversation during dinner with my once youthful lover, our silence a chasm of unspoken hurt. And when the dishes were put away and the baby aslept, I avoided her eyes and told her I was going out to do a late night interview.

My sleeves rolled up, my hair slicked back. I glanced in our bathroom mirror before I left. It felt like a first date all over again, only it was not. I remembered my first date, the muscular swagger, trying to humor her with party tricks. The sweat of our young bodies pressed together, and later - the sting of her slap when I tried to slip my hand beneath her top. I smiled. It was juvenile to think of it; yet the awkward fumbles only reminded me how tired I was. Oh, how fast time goes!The toll and stress of daily living, a stark contrast to the bachelor partying I once enjoyed; who was this thin, bookish man that looked out from the mirror?

 I still remember my wanton muse, and the time beneath her silky sheets. Would she still remember me? I left the house, in search for the promise she once made to me. My wife called out to me, her voice a jolt of reality that chilled my frenzied longing, " Johnny, what time will you be coming home?" Maybe never, my dear. maybe never.