It was a typical March 10 (jacket optional) and the sun was actually out early in the morning. At precisely 7:45 am, though, pressure and anxiety enveloped the large Keppel Gym. Even the subtlest cough instigated a disgruntled sigh as concentration was so rudely lost.  
Yesterday, thousands, if not millions, around the country and the world took part in the much anticipated "annual festivities": the SAT. Meant to be a gauge for your college readiness, the SAT is somehow synonymous with your absolute future. Do well and you're set but fail and you just suck.  But is it really like that? Maybe you got a good score; you probably studied really hard and that’s great. While it is "marvelous" how well you did, believing you will never work hard ever again is kind of "pathetic". The fate of life relies on more than just a one-time test. Rather, the daily decisions to invest time into something you love dictates your future. No matter where you go to college, if there is no will to put in effort, you'll see yourself fall behind others that truly desire to learn. 
Likewise, in the great scheme of life, the "energy" that initiated your life and caused it to be "humped and bossed and garnished and cumbered" could also take it away in a fleeting moment. While I find myself- like everyone else-caught in the pressures of standardized tests, I constantly have to be reminded how insignificant these scores are after high school. When you are on your death bed about to say goodbye, I assure you the subject of your conversation won't be the SAT or some other score you know with certainty was not deserved. 
Nonetheless, there will probably be many more March days where kids everywhere awake with some butterflies in their stomach. It's a natural process that all of us experience. Just take a second, though, and realize there is no "chance against death" and how you perform won't predict the remainder of your life. Stop worrying yourself to death because "just as life had been strange a few minutes before, so death was now as strange".

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