my life must be under the influence of the latter interpretation but with one minor adjustment: my actions, no matter what they are, seem to always end adversely. maybe it's a curse. maybe it's.....nope nothing else can explain it. i'm definitely cursed.
maybe that's it. it's not a fact of whether some event has a reason or not, but whether the person, whose life is affected by the event, is cursed. it's no fun to be cursed by life, to find no joy in anything that you do, even when there is plenty of things going on that you should be ecstatic about. and why should you be ecstatic, since sooner or later, whatever joy derived from that one occasion will only mean utter misery in the next one.
and yet there is still one thing, one single contrivance that allows someone so cursed in life to push forward. the obvious choice would be hope. hope in the future for a time when one action doesn't cause misfortune later on. hope in the possibility that something so unrealistic may actually come true.
but hope just gives us the false notion that at some predetermined time, everything in our lives will be okay and better than they are now. but it never happens. our lives never get better. they may change and appear different than what they used to look like, but underneath it all, we are still cursed. once we realize that hope has failed us, we tend to die a little more on the inside.
we can pretend as much as we want that life is better and happy and satisfying. but it never truly is. it is always missing something. that one thing that would fix it, that would change it for the better and would make hope not a liar anymore. my mom believes (as do others) that this missing piece is god and religion. doctors who like to over medicate the american population tend to believe that there is some kind of chemical imbalance that medication (primarily anti-depressants) can fix.
i don't know what i want to believe. maybe this missing piece in our lives is fixed when we fall in love. some random person, with whom we fall in love, brings it with them and shares the missing piece with us, making us whole again. but what does this leave for the loveless? that they will constantly feel less than whole and remain cursed in life until love finds them or until they find love? what if we have written love out of our story, let love go? does that mean that we will never gain fulfillment? somehow this seems all too likely.
what if this missing piece is broken or doesn't even exist. maybe we are meant to wander through life, searching for that missing piece in every aspect of what we do...
or the missing piece may not be missing at all. we may only perceive it to be gone but it's really there. the best way i can think of describing it is a quote from the character tohru honda of "fruits basket":
"the part of a person that's remarkable is like the umeboshi on the back of a rice ball. all around the world, there are different colors, shapes, and flavors, but because it's stuck to the back, they might not be able to see their precious umeboshi. 'i'm not special,' each one would think, 'just plain ole rice.' even though that's not true, and there is an umeboshi on the back. the reason people get jealous of one another is because they can see the umeboshi on other people's backs. even now, someone might be feeling envious of something you don't recognize in yourself."
