The universe is here to give us signs. Signs show us who we're suppose to become, they point us to the choices we're suppose to make when we stumble upon a crossroad, they help us figure out what the future holds. The guy up there who's in charge of my omens is quite possibly drunk. He's all over the place, literally spining me around with a bag over my head making me completely lose my sense of balance, sense of direction, sense of who I am...
All the dizziness wouldn't be so bad if I knew that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. I would accept all this madness of misconceived signs, if She gave me a break at least this once and show me what it all means, who I am destined to become. But I know her to well, there's no way in hell She's going to do that. And in some twisted way I get it. Where's the fun in knowing? The magic of everything, the magic of our human experience would be gone the second we would realise where the road is leading us...
Being brave enough to take that leap of faith, of walking in the dark, is what it's all about. Maybe that's just some sort of rationalization I clinge to, to somehow make it all seem ok. But maybe, just maybe I got it right...
