I always silently pray that the universe works in my favour. You know, it’s a nice thought... to hope that someone is always looking out for you, maneuvering the strings to make things go your way. And trust me, I’ve felt that before - when the things I want actually happen. But as soon as I come down from that high and look at it from a bigger picture, I realize just how trivial my existence is in this world.
I’m sixteen. I’m not even close to the brilliant minds who actually contribute to the betterment of the world in some meaningful way. So what makes me worthy of the universe bending in my favour?
The concept of having free will - and yet your fate being written out before you were born—is equally terrifying. In the first case, you’re overwhelmed by the pressure of making yourself fit into a narrative that will only be revealed in time. In the latter, you’re left questioning every moment of your life, wondering whether your entire being doesn’t belong to you at all.
What’s scarier is that our lives, as humans, will inevitably fall into one of those two categories.
Maybe life is like a marble set to roll down a track. Sure, you have wiggle room - you can shift slightly, tilt a little - but that path is set. You can’t change its course, no matter what. And that tiny space you do have seems colossal... because it’s all you’ve ever known.