On letting life unfold in due time
Divine interventions! Intuitive planning! Noticing the signs!
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When I was younger I embodied what it meant to be impatient. I was a feen for instant gratification, one who wanted EVERYTHING and wanted it NOW. I forced my way into situations that would’ve unfolded more smoothly had I waited for the right timing, but young Denise trudged on carrying a big stick and a God-like mentality, bending the will of the universe in an attempt to satisfy my whimsy desires.
Manipulating fate requires a significant amount of energy, usually one brimming with darkness and lust. It’s all-consuming and hyper-fixating, requiring Oceans 8 levels of scheming and debauchery. And what’s ironic about playing God and forcing life’s hand is that yes, you may end up with what you want, but often it’s a corrupted version.
It’s the job you lied your way into that you’re failing at because your qualifications were made up. It’s the boyfriend that you’ve snake-charmed who turned out to be a dud and now won’t leave you alone.
I was in college during the era of doing things “for the plot.” On the daily I flexed the muscle of looking at a situation from a bird’s eye view and figuring out how to work my way around all the potential misfortunes, how to bend an outcome in my favor. But the stakes were often low and innocent, like figuring out how to finish my chemistry homework in time for the pregame or determining the number of Taco Bell items I could buy with only $10 (about three).
There’s a weight I feel now when I try to continue through murky waters, forcing my way past obvious roadblocks out of gluttonous desire. It manifests as a sprawling heaviness in my chest, a persistent nag that pulses from my third-eye.