Sitting behind this desk, in this office for the second last time, I'm fighting my body to not burst out into a rage of absolute panic. The past few months, I used this place as a means of procrastination. Now the time has come, and I have no direction, I'm sure of absolutely nothing and the opportunities at this stage are equal to nil. I hear my mother's voice telling me it's alright, things will fall into place, I will find something. But without her to keep telling me that... I find myself holding back the tears almost every second. I fear the silence, the isolation the doubt and stress that awaits me when I sit at home next week.