What's So New?

I think I finished my Prelims today. There is really nothing very special about it. I had intended to rub it into just about everybody else that I was done, but somehow after the paper I didn't. I din't feel particularly free or relaxed or jubilant that the ordeal was over. And it wasn't because History Paper 3 was bad. On the contrary it was good. Very good. The euphoria and catharsis that normally greets the end of the examinations turned its back on me today. I instead delved into my study plans for the next few weeks. Days. Oh right, it is only the Prelims. Miles to go before I sleep (x2).

I am now ending my blogposting embargo designed to allow me maximum concentration for the Prelims. If I were to take you through which papers and subjects went well for me and which ones didn't I'd write something longer than my essay on plot and theme in Paddy Clarke and The Color Purple. I guess the point is this. I should come back down to Earth. Now that people begin to put in effort and actually study my level of achievement is no longer untouchable. I am no longer the one who answers the difficult essay questions, sees the more obscure or abstract solutions to Physics problems, and comes out feeling really good about it. It is time to finally face up to the fact that I have achieved in the past 18 months through endeavour, and not through brilliance. It hurts me to see people getting to where I have taken 18 months to get to in some 18 days. I guess the ranks of superhumanity are for those in the level who now are clicking into gear and ready to run away with the top scores. I am only human, though, and Thomas Edison was wrong. 99% perspiration only works for the first 99% of the journey. The all-important last 1%, the final and ultimate challenge, has to go to the inspiration I now see is beyond me. This realisation is at once sobering and depressing, but well, so is this world. And I will be surprised if people in 614 don't beat me for Physics. Jiahe doing that is a foregone conclusion, but I can also see Cheuk Ho and Fish and Debbie and possibly others profiting from my inability to handle the explanation questions found in the Options paper. Screwing up Math 2 was distasteful, too.

And now I await the revelation of the results. Not with bated breath, for there is nothing nice to anticipate. I shall spend the next week or so rereading Paddy Clarke and writing a full and satisfying commentary on it, and perhaps I should also foray into the realms of historiography and read the Elton and Hobsbawn and Carr notes I have lying around. And I will watch Chelsea stuff United this weekend. That I will do.