The ultimate question of life, the uni...
Somewhere around 10th grade we all enter this big examination hall. And get handed this blank sheet of paper with a single line printed on the top: Do as directed: Discover yourself. Write an essay on it. ..and we spent the rest of our life trying to hit the moving target that makes "us" us - ever closing in but never quite there. Supplements get acquired, pages get filled up... Some finish up fast, pack up and leave. Some fill-up the pages with multi-colored inks, highlighting the rungs that mattered most. Some staple onto the pages, souvenirs from their lives - coasters, used bandages, train tickets, the razor blade with which they cut themselves. Yet others keep filling up pages after pages and yet feel as if they haven't written anything of substance. Some end their essay with a one line summary like "To my friends: my work is done. Why wait?" As the exam progresses, all kinds of patterns emerge. The ugliness of the rat race (who will come up...