Better to Focus on Exams

So I've finally gotten over my lost job... Anyway, the reason that I'm not allowed is because they deal with certain military stuff that obviously should not be disclosed to foreigners. OK, I'm fine with that.

So anyway, I'm starting to past year papers now and mostly staying in my room all day long. To take a break/ destress, I still play Spider Solitaire or Minesweeper once in a while, watch some movie/series on my comp, or read. I turned on "Turn Left, Turn Right" on impulse today and I felt like searching for the famous poem that is the central theme of the movie. It was a poem by Wisława Szymborska who won the 1996 Nobel Prize for Literature:~

*****************************
Love at First Sight

Both are convinced
that a sudden surge of emotion bound them together.
Beautiful is such a certainty,
but uncertainty is more beautiful.

Because they didn't know each other earlier, they suppose that
nothing was happening between them.
What of the streets, stairways and corridors
where they could have passed each other long ago?

I'd like to ask them
whether they remember-- perhaps in a revolving door
ever being face to face?
an "excuse me" in a crowd
or a voice "wrong number" in the receiver.
But I know their answer:
no, they don't remember.

They'd be greatly astonished
to learn that for a long time
chance had been playing with them.
Not yet wholly ready
to transform into fate for them
it approached them, then backed off,
stood in their way
and, suppressing a giggle,
jumped to the side.

There were signs, signals:
but what of it if they were illegible.
Perhaps three years ago,
or last Tuesday
did a certain leaflet fly
from shoulder to shoulder?
There was something lost and picked up.
Who knows but what it was a ball
in the bushes of childhood.

There were doorknobs and bells
on which earlier
touch piled on touch.
Bags beside each other in the luggage room.
Perhaps they had the same dream on a certain night,
suddenly erased after waking.

Every beginning
is but a continuation,
and the book of events
is never more than half open.
(translated by Walter Whipple)
******************************

...Isn't it beautiful?