"As I dangled, inverted in mind and body, swaying on the wooden bar, my world upside down, the background whizzing past my eyes like a myriad of blurred moments, it's then everything became unclouded and clarion. I could look at my possibilities and I was ready to take my chances!"
Possibilities are too many. Possibilities are rare. They needn't exact to the chances you get in your indigenous life which is at most times celebrated out of proportion. They needn't stem from your core beliefs. They need to be devised. They need to be identified from the camouflage of so called 'chances'.
Not because they aren't borne by destiny. Not even by the irrepressible chances that generate in bound every moment and then.
They are possibilities, sheer possibilities and nothing more than the face value. Life, as we know it, originates and dictates from the factual descriptions of what we know and non-factual instances of what we want to.
An expectation to live upto or possibilities to live into, is perhaps the modular decision a life being has to take.
Chances on the other hand are sublime definitive instances. Layered and presented in a moment, dissolved in another. We cannot create chances. Possibilities, yes.
Regardless of the notions and differences, dependencies are aplenty. Build on your possibilities or you wear down. Make the most of your chances or you perish.
Life, a trapeze, between chances and possibilities held together swinging around on the ropes of reality and beliefs. You land on one for a moment and off to the other in another, round for round.
The universe applauds. Every attempt. Every miss. The penultimate question still remains: When it's your last swing, will you land on possibilities or would you take your chances?
- V!K$
1 comment:
yeah but the trapeze swings on strings of probabilities. Or maybe when I say that I betray as to how I would prefer to land.
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