this is it.

In the last dance of chances
I shall partner you no more.
I shall watch another turn you
As you move across the floor.

In that last dance of chances
When I bid your life goodbye
I will hope she treats you kindly.
I will hope you learn to fly.

In that last dance of chances
When I know you'll not be mine
I will let you go with longing
And the hope that you'll be fine.

In that last dance of chances
We shall know each other's minds.
We shall part with our regrets
When the tie no longer binds.

- Extracted from Robin Hobb, Fool's Fate.

I've been spending the whole week rediscovering Robin Hobb's Farseer and Tawny Man trilogy. She is a fantastic writer of the fantasy genre, and all of you should go grab one of her books and read it too.

I actually went to her book-signing in Borders, London when I was in Year 2, and I was soooooo excited that day I couldn't stop bouncing around my tiny Bond Street flat: just ask Sunsun! And how I wept like a baby after I had devoured this book (I hate goodbyes), but that's another story for another time. Anyway, I got her to autograph this very book 'Fool's Fate', but she spelt my name as 'Lynn'. Well, it could have had been worse. Imagine if it was 'Lin' or 'Lean'. At least I can scrawl a letter 'e' at the back. The other alternative would be to change my name altogether to 'Lynn' but I kinda like my name the way it is, so there.

And so. In the last dance of chances, it seems as if there was never a chance at all. No matter what I'd like to believe, my will is not God's will. No matter how much I want to believe that my life is solely my own, it really isn't. You can't be so irresponsible as to say: "As long as I'm happy, who cares? I'd do what I like." As we all know, life doesn't really operate this way, we are all bound to the family and social hierarchy, and there will always be matters that are out of your jurisdiction.

But stubborn ol' me am going to force it, and try to make things go my way - so no matter what happens, I've decided to do my Masters. This, despite knowing that my family comes first and that it's time for me to stay at home. So I try to persuade myself - I've got my first-class, I've got an offer from Kings, it'd be rather wasted if I don't give it a shot. It's now or never. I'm applying for the MOE grant, but with ultra-smart people like Shihua applying for it, there ain't no way I'm gonna get it. But it's okay, my folks won't have to pay if I take a study loan.

But all these do not eclipse the fact that I'll be leaving them again, and the family burden would once more fall on my sister's slim shoulders. (Am I just trying to run away for another year?) But I promise to make it up to them next time. Somehow, I will. I'll bring in big bucks (as a teacher? -snorts-) and make sure they live like kings and queens in future. Okay okay, like minor nobility then. Whatever it is, you get my point.

In the event that all these grand plans fall flat, forcing me to hide my face behind a mask of embarrassed nonchalence, I'd be heading to NIE on the 25th of July. Blimey, that place is really at the other end of the world. But apart from the lousy, stupid, inaccessible, idiotic, god-awful location, I won't mind starting life anew there. Switching back and forth from my London and Singapore life can be exhausting.

But I'll take it as it comes, one bite step at a time.

And sometimes I wonder: is Hobson's choice even a choice at all?