While luck is never something I truly believed in, it occurred to me recently that to not believe in something requires you to not act as though you believe it. I guess we all have that secret box in our brains that wants to believe that magic can happen just by putting good energy into the ether. But sometimes, the sheer coincidence of these things makes it hard to NOT believe.
For example, my mom and I have a thing about pennies. We would say pennies are a sign of something good. But how? Is that just false hope? While cleaning my apartment yesterday afternoon, something in me decided that I was no longer going to buy into it. It's gotten me nowhere and given me nothing but false hope that the bullshit wishes in my brain piece would somehow magically come true because I found the most expendable form of currency in America on a filthy street corner. However, when I left the apartment to take out the garbage, clear as day, there was a single penny on my front porch. Is the universe just fucking with me or is there really no rhyme or reason to how things happen?
I'd be shocked that after almost 28 years of life that the universe is just built on a heap of happy accidents.
So I'm not giving up on luck or dreams or wishing; I'm giving up on the expectation. In the scheme of things, the only thing we can depend on is what the universe throws our way. It's out of our control. We can steer it in certain directions, but ultimately, everything is an accident.
Editor's note: Is it a cosmic coincidence that I blogged about luck on Friday the 13th? Cause that's just fucking weird.
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