So the end of one the major exams of my life. Not the most important definitely, but nevertheless one that benchmarks and differentiates the men from the boys. Though I might just fall into the category of the boys.

Sometimes I feel that the tests in life don't end. Every obstacle on the path of life seems to be a test. And whilst you can score full marks for a paper, its impossible to perfect a single test in life. Somehow, some way, there are better solution, better ways to do it.

And we never know, until one day we reflect on ourselves.

Then again, what's perfect? I used to think that the lack of flaws, of mistakes, means one is perfect.

The lack of. yea.

The perfect man would never get better, presumably he would never be overtaken. Though he obviously would be robbed of much joy that many don't realise mistakes, flaws bring you.

Being perfect ain't perfect at all. Really.