everything’s a hustle but love

TO [insert own name here],


wow!

exams are no more than a glimpse of foggy scenery from the window of a moving train.
queensland is but a memory of sore feet, good food, creaking hotel sofa beds, shiny themeparks and sparkly views.

i can't believe my last post is a diatribe about exams. i've gotten my mark for history but none of the others are yet available. i'm happy with it. [read into that assessment what you will, hehe.] apart from this numerical reminder, the exams seem rather distant. it's simply brilliant the way things which foster self-doubt and stress, because of the attachment of unnecessary significance to them, are unfailingly revealed in all their insignificant glory as god pushes time forward.

and now i'm in my pjs at my laptop, and nothing has changed. two weeks older, a mere few days until i step out of the teens and into my twenties, but ostensibly no different. no tan because sunscreen is my friend, so no outward change...well, actually, i guess my hair is longer and the colour i covered it up with duller. my head, admittedly, is newly filled with john stott's the cross of christ and the opening chapters of 1 corinthians, and my ears are newly soothed by mae's the everglow.

but i would be lying if i said that i didn't feel a little dejected when i got home and it seemed like nothing had changed. not that i expected it to, really. i hadn't thought about it. i don't feel particularly missed...a feeling due basically entirely to my own over-tired melancholic self-centred need for welcome home baloons and chocolatey proclamations of undying friendship (just kidding--though i'll never turn down chocolate).

meh. good night.


HEART, ALIX


ps. i missed everyone stacks. more than stacks.
pps. please excuse my over-tired melancholic self-centred need to use flowery, pretentious vocab.