A nonsense entry. Literally.
You can't predict everything, and even if you could, there's no way you can change it. No matter what you try and change, no matter what you do different, it doesn't matter. You can change as many events as you want, but you can never change fate. Fate towers over us all, and we are within its shadow no matter how far we run. We may attempt to outrun it; perhaps we even emerge into the light for a moment, but are so busy trying to run away that we never even notice. We cannot tell where fate where ultimately lead us. We may never know if we are woven into our proper destiny, becoming a strong, sturdy knot; if we are the weave, causing a movement like a ripple in a pond; if we are drawn into the weave of another, linking one destiny to another, and another, and still another still; if we are woven into the wrong thread, or even fall through the weakest woven pieces. Yet that is destiny - destiny can prevail, ultimately, or destiny can fail. Fate does not reach out for us. We fall into its clutches without ever knowing. It is undying. It is ultimate. It will prevail.
It's interesting to imagine the "What if...?" What if destiny did not move us - what if we did not start that ripple that affected the lives of so many others? What if you had not met A, who had introduced you to B, who knew C, who knew D, who somehow got you mixed up with A? What if you had not had a fight with Z, and had never talked to Y, who had mentioned it to X, who realized that you and Z were actually on the same wavelength? What if you had never helped M realize what they wanted to be, or what their passion was, and what if M had never helped you follow yours? Some people will tell you that human beings are destiny's pawns, and that may be true; but even so, the hand that moves the pawns is not a puppet master. True, the hand may have already decided where the pawn will eventually end up, but even so it will not simply place the pawn there; it will let the pawn sneak past the knight, and the rook, and the queen and king, and whether the pawn gets captured or not may be in the hands of the master, but the pawn has the greatest power of all: the pawn has the ability to decide if it will go one square on its first move, or if it will go two. The pawn is free to decide for itself. It but needs the hand to help move it.
If you glance into a pool of water, you see an image of yourself reflected at you, and while another may see the same reflection and know but its features, to you a thousand words go off at once. Your hopes. Your fears. Your soul. Your heart. Who you are. Where you've been. What you've been through. You hear what you want, what you wish for, what you feel and desire and pine for and envy. Sometimes it is a soft voice, who speaks slowly and clear. Sometimes it is a thousand voices hushed into one, saying different things at the same time, clouding your mind with a tongue you cannot understand, no matter how hard or long you try and make it out. And when you finally begin to understand it, you notice a tremor, and the waters shake, and with that shake begins a group of ripples. One at first, then two, and growing until it sways your reflection. You are swayed, you are shaken, you are moved, and above all you are changed. But such is life... and such is destiny. It all but near makes sense sometimes...
Then there are other times when you cannot understand it. Why did this happen to me? Why must I suffer - why must I not? Why was I shaped into this mound of flesh and breath? Why must I be shaped into this? Why is this expected of me? Why is this important thing so useless to everyone else? Why... Why... Why? So many "why"s! Yet imagine how completely necessary they are. Why needs to be asked. Why not. Why. Why this... Why that... Why him... Why her... Why here and not there? Why not them? Why me? Why, oh why? We need why. It's a thread that needs to be woven.
Gah, I'm tongue-tied now. I cannot understand it; the ripples have started up again. Such a strange series of events... but all completely necessary. What if I could pick up a twig and start my own ripple in the pond? No... what good would that do. You cannot change what has already come and gone. You can change what will happen, true, but you cannot change the result. It will always be the same - that's fate, good old father fate, who need not lift a finger and we are drawn to his side. He doesn't come to us... we run to him, no matter what. Even so, beyond fate there is the ultimate... stretch? No... ultimate place... ultimate world, even. Odd. Take one life for the safety of millions, or one life for another, or even a thousand lives for but one or three, and there's the chance that the result can ultimately be the same. Hard bargain they drive...
Yesterday Mr. Sonday was asking questions concerning the idea of "which do you prefer?" He turned to me and rose his hands, and with perfect ease asked, "Mother or father?" No one saw me hesitate, more or less thought much of my reply of "Neutral." Ironic thing is, I realized shortly after that that very same day happened to be my father's birthday. 43, I do believe - a ripe age, and quite young compared to the fathers my friends have. I sat around after school and played with Tyler, and only when being with him do I realize how much we share, in both our dramastic differences and our stunning similarities. We have the same compulsives, the same odd behaviors, the same unique and strange way of thinking. For so long I wanted nothing more than to outrun the life my ma was trying to shape me into, and even so I realized I will live for it forever - with or without Tyler. I will live with autism, because I cannot hide it. This morning I woke from a dream in which my family was shot before me, and for some reason I was overlooked by the criminal, who all but jumped over me as I crouched on the floor. I realized we are torn, and we are broken, but we are family. And I realized that, while my ma now travels up north to try and support us, so we can live half the life we once lived, half the life everyone else probably never notices, I wanted to cry because she was leaving me. A strange, sick feeling lay in my gut today; I can't explain it. I get it so often - I'm too easily affected by things I don't even see. I feel them. I hate it. But the thing I hated most was having to close the door as she drove away.
I can't even begin with everyone else... Too many words at once, all crowding my thoughts. What more is there to say? Spero nos familiares mansuros.
It's interesting to imagine the "What if...?" What if destiny did not move us - what if we did not start that ripple that affected the lives of so many others? What if you had not met A, who had introduced you to B, who knew C, who knew D, who somehow got you mixed up with A? What if you had not had a fight with Z, and had never talked to Y, who had mentioned it to X, who realized that you and Z were actually on the same wavelength? What if you had never helped M realize what they wanted to be, or what their passion was, and what if M had never helped you follow yours? Some people will tell you that human beings are destiny's pawns, and that may be true; but even so, the hand that moves the pawns is not a puppet master. True, the hand may have already decided where the pawn will eventually end up, but even so it will not simply place the pawn there; it will let the pawn sneak past the knight, and the rook, and the queen and king, and whether the pawn gets captured or not may be in the hands of the master, but the pawn has the greatest power of all: the pawn has the ability to decide if it will go one square on its first move, or if it will go two. The pawn is free to decide for itself. It but needs the hand to help move it.
If you glance into a pool of water, you see an image of yourself reflected at you, and while another may see the same reflection and know but its features, to you a thousand words go off at once. Your hopes. Your fears. Your soul. Your heart. Who you are. Where you've been. What you've been through. You hear what you want, what you wish for, what you feel and desire and pine for and envy. Sometimes it is a soft voice, who speaks slowly and clear. Sometimes it is a thousand voices hushed into one, saying different things at the same time, clouding your mind with a tongue you cannot understand, no matter how hard or long you try and make it out. And when you finally begin to understand it, you notice a tremor, and the waters shake, and with that shake begins a group of ripples. One at first, then two, and growing until it sways your reflection. You are swayed, you are shaken, you are moved, and above all you are changed. But such is life... and such is destiny. It all but near makes sense sometimes...
Then there are other times when you cannot understand it. Why did this happen to me? Why must I suffer - why must I not? Why was I shaped into this mound of flesh and breath? Why must I be shaped into this? Why is this expected of me? Why is this important thing so useless to everyone else? Why... Why... Why? So many "why"s! Yet imagine how completely necessary they are. Why needs to be asked. Why not. Why. Why this... Why that... Why him... Why her... Why here and not there? Why not them? Why me? Why, oh why? We need why. It's a thread that needs to be woven.
Gah, I'm tongue-tied now. I cannot understand it; the ripples have started up again. Such a strange series of events... but all completely necessary. What if I could pick up a twig and start my own ripple in the pond? No... what good would that do. You cannot change what has already come and gone. You can change what will happen, true, but you cannot change the result. It will always be the same - that's fate, good old father fate, who need not lift a finger and we are drawn to his side. He doesn't come to us... we run to him, no matter what. Even so, beyond fate there is the ultimate... stretch? No... ultimate place... ultimate world, even. Odd. Take one life for the safety of millions, or one life for another, or even a thousand lives for but one or three, and there's the chance that the result can ultimately be the same. Hard bargain they drive...
Yesterday Mr. Sonday was asking questions concerning the idea of "which do you prefer?" He turned to me and rose his hands, and with perfect ease asked, "Mother or father?" No one saw me hesitate, more or less thought much of my reply of "Neutral." Ironic thing is, I realized shortly after that that very same day happened to be my father's birthday. 43, I do believe - a ripe age, and quite young compared to the fathers my friends have. I sat around after school and played with Tyler, and only when being with him do I realize how much we share, in both our dramastic differences and our stunning similarities. We have the same compulsives, the same odd behaviors, the same unique and strange way of thinking. For so long I wanted nothing more than to outrun the life my ma was trying to shape me into, and even so I realized I will live for it forever - with or without Tyler. I will live with autism, because I cannot hide it. This morning I woke from a dream in which my family was shot before me, and for some reason I was overlooked by the criminal, who all but jumped over me as I crouched on the floor. I realized we are torn, and we are broken, but we are family. And I realized that, while my ma now travels up north to try and support us, so we can live half the life we once lived, half the life everyone else probably never notices, I wanted to cry because she was leaving me. A strange, sick feeling lay in my gut today; I can't explain it. I get it so often - I'm too easily affected by things I don't even see. I feel them. I hate it. But the thing I hated most was having to close the door as she drove away.
I can't even begin with everyone else... Too many words at once, all crowding my thoughts. What more is there to say? Spero nos familiares mansuros.