If fate wants me to be like this, then so be it, but should I really believe that some unknown creature up there in the skies has a plan for me all sorted out without giving me a chance to make my own decisions? Wouldn't that be too sad to believe in, be it only a thought of that creature to be true.
We don't know about it, we can only guess its existence in this world, let alone be certain of its purpose here on our tiny planet. Perhaps it is only a myth holding a few believing spirits together with an invisible yet invincible chain, connecting all whose faith is strong enough to ignore all evil and wickedness.
Or perhaps this is all true and our so-called choices are merely images of our ignorance and attempted self-consciousness. All we choose with our free will, all the paths we walk and better, not walk. Are they all just a silly facade, keeping us foolish in thinking we actually have a say in this, in our lives?
When will we ever know the difference between choosing and being made to choose? Is everything here present for a reason, or is it just a guessing game, waiting for us to throw the dice, to see us fall in and out of love, happiness, misfortune?
And what does it matter if we know, isn't it so much better to take it as it comes, believing it is meant to be when everything is all right, to just soak into misery and give up, because there is nothing you can do about it anyway. Or just get full of yourself when the sun shines on you, for you have chosen right, and take comfort in the idea that whenever you're down, you can choose your way up again.
Two sides of a blade, interpret them as you like, as you wish, or should I say, as you are wanted to wish, though unaware of being wanted to interpret it in the manner that you do. Once you are thinking about it, you question every thought about it, for maybe you are sure, and maybe you're just wanted to be sure, maybe it is your destiny to be sure about something that isn't sure at all.
And maybe it's just too late to be thinking about uncertain things like these, and I should just head back to my endless what-ifs when I don't feel limited to my own mind and reasoning in the middle of the night.
We don't know about it, we can only guess its existence in this world, let alone be certain of its purpose here on our tiny planet. Perhaps it is only a myth holding a few believing spirits together with an invisible yet invincible chain, connecting all whose faith is strong enough to ignore all evil and wickedness.
Or perhaps this is all true and our so-called choices are merely images of our ignorance and attempted self-consciousness. All we choose with our free will, all the paths we walk and better, not walk. Are they all just a silly facade, keeping us foolish in thinking we actually have a say in this, in our lives?
When will we ever know the difference between choosing and being made to choose? Is everything here present for a reason, or is it just a guessing game, waiting for us to throw the dice, to see us fall in and out of love, happiness, misfortune?
And what does it matter if we know, isn't it so much better to take it as it comes, believing it is meant to be when everything is all right, to just soak into misery and give up, because there is nothing you can do about it anyway. Or just get full of yourself when the sun shines on you, for you have chosen right, and take comfort in the idea that whenever you're down, you can choose your way up again.
Two sides of a blade, interpret them as you like, as you wish, or should I say, as you are wanted to wish, though unaware of being wanted to interpret it in the manner that you do. Once you are thinking about it, you question every thought about it, for maybe you are sure, and maybe you're just wanted to be sure, maybe it is your destiny to be sure about something that isn't sure at all.
And maybe it's just too late to be thinking about uncertain things like these, and I should just head back to my endless what-ifs when I don't feel limited to my own mind and reasoning in the middle of the night.
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