In a string of bad luck, the one thing I can always count on is that it will eventually lessen one day.
It’s a routine of life: I’m doing fine, I face a sudden string of bad luck where everything goes wrong, and then suddenly everything pays off and I get granted some big life-changing thing I’ve been waiting for. It’s the same old, tired played out routine; it is almost an unfortunate state of being to be able to read the signs of life, because you know what you have in store, and what you have to endure to first get there.
Does life become more or less fun when you can read its signs, when you can interpret your future? I always wondered if this was some sort of accidental divination, which I know we’re not supposed to do, but I can’t help if my brain is trained to recognize patterns. Or maybe I just always have bad luck and am only sometimes more sensitive to noticing it, who knows.
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