Im not sure I believe in destiny
I think we give it too much power
Like its some god flicking us at each other
In and out of doors with her middle finger
I think we made it up
But you know what I think can’t be a coincidence?
The fact that this vague concept of determinism has stuck around
In humankind’s’ feeble and fickle line of vision
In our prayers and prose and poems
for this long
i don’t know
I think maybe it means that even though every miracle
might be borne of a random drawing of lots, a dice roll
simply uninspiring statistical expectations
The odds must be pretty damn good
for it to have swung often enough in our favour and far enough
For us to remain as hyper fixated with soulmates and the divined as we as a species are
To be honest I don’t know what the fudge im talking about
But I was in the shower one night
as I thought to myself
that the chances u might be looking straight at me
in the specific direction of my trembling form
from the other side of this tiny island
has to be pretty damn high
