Sometimes I like to think that the life that I am living was made for me. That every choice that I have made or haven’t made was all planned out for me. That the idea of free will is just that an idea that has been fabricated to make me think I have a say in what my life is turning out to be.
Granted most of the time I am happy with how my life is. And that the happiness I posses really is genuine happiness and that I’m not in denial.
I’m not really sure where this is coming from. I guess it comes from the fact that I’m sitting at an empty table, feet away from people a year ago I called my friends.
See when I’m in stupid awkward situations like the one that I currently I am in. I begin to think and question myself.
This is mainly because I don’t know if I should be worried about how I am living my life.
In retrospect I like my life though at often times I curse my very existence.
I just wonder that maybe I am the reason for things ending up being shitty in my life.
I hardly ever regret my life. Really I hardly ever regret any of it. I don’t have regrets. Mainly because I know that I make my life what it is or will be. Which contradicts what I previously questioned.
See that’s what always gets me. My vast amounts of contradictions. One after the other. Hundreds being spilled out of my brain. That cause me to venture off topic most if not all the time. Like what just happened.
Back to my point though. Is my life really mine? Did I truly get here because of me? Or did I get here out of a master plan that was written out for me,
I guess I should not hurt my brain with all this random thinking. And I should start walking up to my meeting with my Writing professor.
-V