On my way home a few months ago, packed on the rush-hour train between a lady reading a Tagalog romance novel and a teenager taking duck-faced selfies with her phone, my irate thoughts became a reflection on the idea that my life was going nowhere. Somewhere between the Magallanes and Guadalupe MRT stations, I was literally jostled and elbowed into the world-come-crushing down on you realisation that I'd meandered through a morass of jobs,...
