And I was a believer, I think. Inspirational quotes would float from
brain to tongue on cue as I would sit lonely in the car looking for a sense of
retribution. Yes, if I need to buck up and get out I convinced myself that the
universe had a particular purpose and if I just looked for signs, I can
overcome whatever it was that left me sitting in a car full of gas, completely
on empty.
It has become clear to me that signs are really nothing more than
what you want to see. A visual riddle projected from your own mind into the
vastness of the universe. Omens are constructs of your mind picking and
prodding at the restraints of your own perceptions, and I'm stuck in a brand of shackles called hope. On some days, I’d like to
drive a steal bullet right into the heart of it all.
