the quiet before the storm.
it's the night before the release of the 'a' level results, the signalling of the end of whatever peace of mind us eighteen year olds have been able to gather in the past three months.
there's something strangely poetic about tonight.. something strangely poignant, something in the air that makes one know one cannot possibly re-enact this same moment. like.. the calm before the storm. the building up of the waves before they crash. the huge drawn-in breath before you let out a humongous, wet, germ-ridden sneeze. it's almost like waiting for death.
the melodrama in the air tonight is evident. the various nicknames online that so evidently illustrate the communal anxiety, the wishing of luck to everyone [hopefully sincere. there IS something called the bell-curve, yes?], the musing of different avenues of death upon the receipt of one's results. it's like a maelstrom of negative emotions, a nexus in which poor, pathetic creatures such as myself lose themselves... in shared panic. it's probably the best way to trigger stress... shared panic. works every time. the damned ripple effect. i'm not going to talk to anyone tonight.
but yet amongst all the flurry and the nerves there are those brave souls who dare to stand up and say, "don't worry, lah!" of course, those brave souls often get railed at, or grumbled about behind their backs about their "overconfidence". it's unfair, really. they're just being those jewels in the rough who dare to use optimism to regard a practice so clearly without merit, it should be outlawed. they should implement an internet system. you log on if you want to know your results. if you don't, just.. never open it. and people won't have to endure that gnawing feeling of.. "shit what if i wrote this thing wrongly?" or "dammit, what if i forgot to..". that's the worst part. the waiting. it actually reminds me a little of war lit.
but despite all the anxiety and angst.. God still speaks to me in such small ways. James Dobson once said, "trust involves letting go and knowing God will catch you." it's written on a little card that i used to use as a bookmark. i chanced upon it again as i was looking through some things in my book closet, just a couple of minutes ago. it was a reminder, i'll bet.
i need to trust. i need to know that He's got a plan, and that's all that matters.
it doesn't matter.
Lord, help me to realise it doesn't matter.
"Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid." -Isa. 12:2
good luck, everybody. God bless.
there's something strangely poetic about tonight.. something strangely poignant, something in the air that makes one know one cannot possibly re-enact this same moment. like.. the calm before the storm. the building up of the waves before they crash. the huge drawn-in breath before you let out a humongous, wet, germ-ridden sneeze. it's almost like waiting for death.
the melodrama in the air tonight is evident. the various nicknames online that so evidently illustrate the communal anxiety, the wishing of luck to everyone [hopefully sincere. there IS something called the bell-curve, yes?], the musing of different avenues of death upon the receipt of one's results. it's like a maelstrom of negative emotions, a nexus in which poor, pathetic creatures such as myself lose themselves... in shared panic. it's probably the best way to trigger stress... shared panic. works every time. the damned ripple effect. i'm not going to talk to anyone tonight.
but yet amongst all the flurry and the nerves there are those brave souls who dare to stand up and say, "don't worry, lah!" of course, those brave souls often get railed at, or grumbled about behind their backs about their "overconfidence". it's unfair, really. they're just being those jewels in the rough who dare to use optimism to regard a practice so clearly without merit, it should be outlawed. they should implement an internet system. you log on if you want to know your results. if you don't, just.. never open it. and people won't have to endure that gnawing feeling of.. "shit what if i wrote this thing wrongly?" or "dammit, what if i forgot to..". that's the worst part. the waiting. it actually reminds me a little of war lit.
but despite all the anxiety and angst.. God still speaks to me in such small ways. James Dobson once said, "trust involves letting go and knowing God will catch you." it's written on a little card that i used to use as a bookmark. i chanced upon it again as i was looking through some things in my book closet, just a couple of minutes ago. it was a reminder, i'll bet.
i need to trust. i need to know that He's got a plan, and that's all that matters.
it doesn't matter.
Lord, help me to realise it doesn't matter.
"Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid." -Isa. 12:2
good luck, everybody. God bless.
posted by jo at 23:02
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