'help, help' screams the catepillar stuck in his cocoon. 'I don't want to be trapped like this!'

'But how else are you going to turn into a butterfly?' the cocoon reminds him.

'How long am I going to have to be in here?' whines the caterpillar. 'beats me', came the omniscent reply. 'But you spun this thing, you can come out anytime you want. Keep in mind though that you mght never get to be a butterfly because of this'.

'So basically you are asking me to make a choice between present and future happiness. That is a worthy question coming from an inanimate cocoon such as you.'

Our society, especially those grounded in mandarin idioms have firmly rooted us to the well known catchphrase, 'first bitter, later sweet'. Meaning to go through present torture to experience future pleasure. Most things are based around that idea too, studying hard now so that you can get a good job in the future. Working hard now so that you can retire comfortably. It seems that the whole point of your life is to prepare for your death.

Is it really worth it? Is giving up your childhood to a world of books and practice papers really worth the chance of future success, even though you know that you are giving up a piece of your life that can never be recovered? Spending the years that you are fit and healthy slaving away in a company so that you can walk freely when you're bent and broken? Even when you are able to enjoy life, can you? What has happened to living fast and dying young, letting the good times last, carpe diem?

In economics there has always been something called opportunity cost. Our society and families have psyched us to believe that the opportunity cost for studying hard now is so much lesser than that of not having a good degree in the future. Sounds reasonable. I have also heard that it is better to regret what you did do than to regret not doing. Sounds reasonable as well. So which is it? can you really predict the future?

Poor, poor, caterpillar.

You sometimes forget, it slips your mind, how similar you can be.
and when it springs, during a ring, it stings you like a bee.
Sometimes you don't, sometimes you do, what its like to be free.
When that clone, that has flown, you make laugh with glee.
You can't help but wonder, how much it can see.

The world is round, the pool is round, even the pond is round.
When swimmers start a race, they always come around.
The fishes in the tank, without hope abound, they swim around.
One round, two rounds even many rounds, they still call it 'a'round.

As far as a salmon swims, he will spawn around,
And the outstretched wings of the eagle, circles round and round.
a pacing dog, a rolling log, swooning typhoon,
round and drown and mound and town.

So fear not when the ocean seems so vast and far abound,
for you know that in the end, salt always comes around.
no matter the size, no matter the shape, it is secretly a round.
And when when you see my figure fade, just simply turn around.