Tatters and Rags 4

I don’t have excuses. Frankly I just stayed away. ‘Cause I was pretending to be too busy.
People do that sometimes, you know.

Shitty shitty
luck is the topic of the evening.

Even though Word insists I 'delete repeated word' (yes: I type my blog posts on Word first, then copy and paste them onto the new post thingy –you can’t judge), I think the reptition does not stem from redundancy - but from necessity.

Because I’ve got shitty luck galore. Yes, that much. You’d think the universe would be more caring and share my shitty shitty luck with more people so that there’s balance.

I laugh as I even type that out. It’s quite blasphemous, the idea that the universe cares.

But then one day, I bump right into someone with shittier lucky than mine, and I can’t very well complain. Reason doesn’t let me.
Reason understands chance. It does. It purrs at the numbers, and the rarity of combinations. Faith though, dispels notions of luck – they don’t add up in faith ... counting units? No, they all scream 'destiny'.

Personally, I’d like to think luck is every human’s friction with earth. Luck is the reaction to everyone’s choice making and being.

So I’ve made a lot of crappy choice – I tsk myself, really.

Or maybe, the Earth doesn't rub right with my being? :O. Now that is total ruin.

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