It's never enough

There are stories of coincidence and chance, of intersections and strange things told, and which is which and nobody knows; and we generally say, "Well, if that was in a movie, I wouldn't believe it."

Yes, yes... I must be getting quite used to not making sense. Nonsense... I sit down approximately once a week to reach in and extract jumbled contents in motion. Frenzied and swirling about. Introspection, insecurity. Boring.

I define "what is meant to be" as that which comes easy, arriving from the miraculous nature of the deepest human emotion. Reasoning is pointless. I've considered the best path. The path that "should be." A human idea. My plan. Only to be turned upside down by what was meant to be. And I've battled against it. And won. And witnessed my fate, at my own hands suffer awkward conclusions. Never risking life or death, only awkward conclusions, consequences of what should have been rather than what was meant to be. I'm torn but unbroken. The last stop will brush past miles of uncharted landscape before its arrival.

The days fill. Like Professional task efficiency. I won't complain, but I'll wonder.