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| Login | Ryan writes of fate. | September 06, 2010 08:26 PM (PDT) |
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This is a little story/essay I wrote on 11/28/2001. I just found it, so have a look see. I didn't change it in any way. Fate. It is a strange concept, a stranger practice. How many people spend their time tooling away at mundane or unnecessary tasks, only to find themselves wishing otherwise in the twilight of those mundane lives. Will I be one of them? The question implies that cruel fate indeed exists, and could punish me for my blasphemy. But maybe fate doesn't exist, except in our minds. Fate is the result of self doubt. If I can't do something, or don't have the courage, fate appears to doom or save me. "I hope I can get out of this relationship." Fate is a manifestation of lack of confidence. For the soul who knows exactly what they want, and has confidence in their ability to get it, fate is extinct. Past generations have been seperated from that which they desire by money, status, technology, and a host of things truly out of their control. This is where the concept of fate originated, as a malignant substitute for luck. Unlucky and ill-fated carry very different meanings, yet the practical result is the same. Everyone who is either has terrible things happen to them, with the only distinction being on fault. The ill-fated damns his onmipotent nemisis, while the unlucky sheepishly say "whoops" and curse themselves. Most are unlucky, and find escape by claiming ill-fatedness. I knew someone who was ill-fated, and the unlucky have no right claiming their disability. |
   
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