Today of all days, I decided not to bring my umbrella, confidently assuming that it wouldn’t pour. Today of all days, I was wrong.
There goes the brush with reality and the burst of the bubble we often think we’re impervious to. We can be such arrogant schmucks at times, thinking destiny to be easily manipulated by our thoughts and hopes.
Thus, I stood there, motionless and desperately waiting for the rain to stop, frustratedly doing a Tarzan-chest-beating for convincing myself I could voodoo the skies into waiting for me to get into the car before it planned to pour. Oh but it did pour. And how.
I pity myself and the fool that’s caught off guard on that one day he plans to deviate from the daily grind. It’s like getting called in class on the one day you plan not to study, like running into an ex (one you haven’t seen in eons) on that fateful day you look haggard.
While I don’t believe in regrets or having them for that matter, there are just times when you wish you had gone the other way or more extremely, been born on another day. Like a friend you realize far too late to be that pain in the A, like the advice you should have just taken from Mother, like the sleep you should have gotten the night before getting sick, we all wish, in one way or another, that we could stop, pause or even rewind.
The thing with life that’s most tragically beautiful is that there are no chances for such. It’s on play and you have no choice but to play along.