Faced with the opportunity to escape, what does a man do?

Does he suddenly change his mind at the end of the tunnel, turn back and walk towards the opposite way - back to a place where comfort and gloom are abound?

He thinks of all the luxuries and comforts that he has to leave behind: the money, security, the chance to be popular, the glamour and everything else that is tied up to his current situation.

10 years down the line, he may regret his decision of moving on, as his peers would have probably made it by then. They may be managers by that time, handling people and large amounts of money. And where would he be?

What lies ahead (uncertainty) definitely scares him. Is the escape really necessary? Would it truly alter his life for the better? Or is that route to freedom deceiving him, tempting him to do something that isn’t really meant for him? What if he ends up hating the place where the path leads to?

But he can't stay. The passion just isn’t there. The man wants to take hold of his fate. He doesn’t want to be pushed around and sacrificed like a pawn. He wants to own the chess board, and possess his own pieces. And he believes that taking that escape route, no matter how cowardly it may seem, will be a step towards his goal.

The man thinks again and realizes that he may be one of the luckiest men in the world. He has a choice, an option that probably 99% of the world’s population doesn’t have. And yet, he feels like it’s a burden. An irony, really, given that he wants to take hold of his fate.

He hesitates.

People we love have to pass away. How else would we know how important they are if they didn't? - A revised line from Benjamin Button.

I have never written or talked much about her. I've tried to separate her from my reality, to shadow her away from my world. But in truth, without her, I wouldn't have come this far. She has selflessly given her all for me, for my sake. And yet, I haven't really shown much gratitude for the things she's done. If only I could tell her how much I appreciate her without feeling all emotional or weak or vulnerable, I would. When I do find the strength and courage to tell her how I feel, I just hope it wouldn't be too late.

Instead of going back to my shitty work, I've decided to revive this blog and write something.

A friend wrote in her journal that it has already been 9 months since graduation, and yet, she's still lost. She wants to try everything that sparks interest in her. The "wise" ones say she shouldn't quit; it’s “stupid” to ride whatever comes her way. The indecisive say it is normal, given that she has just graduated and nothing is set yet. She's facing a world full of possibilities and opportunities. Who wouldn't get lost in such a grand situation?

Obviously, I can relate. I wouldn't be writing here if I wasn't. But I feel like I'm already past that lost,-what-will-I-do stage. I've looked in my heart and reflected for weeks and months, and found out a simple truth (that we all know already): it's not about what you think you want and what you know, but what makes you happy. If you feel like work is drudgery, then resign. Don't look back. Having the chance to taste a glamorous job with a ridiculous salary this early in my career made me realize that it's not about ego-boosting job titles or short-term financial gain. If you feel that your life is wasting away in a cubicle, then it's just not worth it.

When faced with these new and difficult challenges, we all feel the urgency to just quit – to move on to the next place and start anew. Yet, what's hindering us from doing so is the fear of losing security along with that incessant nagging that we shouldn't disappoint the people we love the most. The thing is, it's okay to quit. Now.

You're probably thinking, "hey I'm still young, it's okay to stick it out first; maybe things would eventually change and I'd end up liking whatever I have right now." That kind of mindset is just plain wrong. That means you're ready to settle. And the sad thing is, yes, there's a 92% chance that you'd end up liking your current state, but only out of habit.

What you don't realize this early is that, as you go further in the journey of life, your choices will slowly start to dwindle. As each responsibility comes along, like a wife, a kid or an ailing parent, the doors to your real passion creak to a close. Before you know it, you're 40 and still lugging yourself to your cubicle or maybe to your grand office now. There you are, busy as hell, a ton of papers on your desk, thinking and evaluating your life - or the lack of it. And then the regret comes, "what if I had chosen to quit 18 years ago?"

Don't be scared. Quit early and find what makes you happy.

Yet, in that search, never had it occurred to me that employment also meant losing yourself. I thought it would give meaning and significance to my life. I assumed that I would finally find my genuine worth beyond classrooms, Calculus and lectures - out of the unreal.

I was wrong.

People who have shifted (or plans to shift) into entrepreneurship are right. In a multinational company, being a mere foot soldier is tantamount to being a "cog," an insignificant (and replaceable) part of a well-oiled gargantuan machine.

The HR department, the managers, the GMs and the CEOs constantly remind employees that they matter, that a corporation cannot function without them.

But that's just a load of bullshit to hide the truth, to temporary lift the morale of people in order to keep them working. The "encouraging" words, the money and incentives they offer are modern-day whips used to force workers into following their "vision."

To some extent, little things do matter. You cannot accumulate a billion dollars without one mere dollar. Bolts, bricks and cement make up and form skyscrapers and conglomerates.  But, really, do these minute parts actually feel their worth beyond what is expected of them?

No, they don't.

We don't my fellow slave.

We are part of an inverted networking pyramid scheme, where the builders and the pioneers gain the most wealth and fulfilment, while the last in line, the ignorant and the gullible – us – get virtually nothing.

Only the "visionaries," builders, and architects believe that we matter, because, ultimately, we are just instruments to their success.