You know a dream is like a river,
Ever changing as it flows,
And a dreamer’s just a vessel,
That must follow where it goes,
Trying to learn from what’s behind you,
And never knowing what’s in store,
Makes each day a constant battle,
Just to stay between the shores.
-The River (Garth Brooks, Victoria Shaw).
Like Pencils in the hands of the creator,
That’s exactly what we represent.
We need to come to terms with this fact.
Sometimes, we are on a collision course and we don’t even know it. Whether it is by accident or design,
Our handiwork or doing.
We strive to write our own paths through life. Little do we know everything is fated already.
Rush headlong and hard at life,
Or just sit at home and wait,
All things good and all the wrong,
Will come right to you: It’s Fate.
Some people don’t believe in the concept of Fate. It must be hard to believe everything that happens to a person is predestined. Right? How can one convince oneself that whatever happens to one was meant to be? Even when one brings some things upon oneself, being the architect of one’s own fortune or mishap?
Believing in it or not..
Take route X or Y, if you are meant to arrive at Z, you will, irrespective of the path. 🙂
Because whatever is meant to be would definitely be. However. And whatever is meant for you would never pass you by. Vice versa.
Sounds like blasphemy right?
It is just the way things have been. Before inception. While we’re here. And it would still be, long after we’re gone. 🙂
Hear the music, dance if you can,
Dress in rags or wear jewels,
Drink your choice, nurse your fear,
In this old honkytonk of fools.
-The book of counted sorrows.