Does everything turn out “as it’s supposed to be”?
Or is that some bullshit that people tell themselves when their lives are going to hell in a hand-basket and life has become such chaos that nothing seems recognizable anymore.
I try to find comfort in that statement or similar sentiment….
“Things will work out, they always do.”
“It always seems darkest before the dawn.”
“Everything will turn out okay.”
I want to believe in all that, but part of me is a realist and more than cynical by now and just rejects that notion. Armed with the full knowledge of my own lifetime, that nothing seems to end picture perfect. That financial ruin, relationship gone awry, and illness seem to attack like a virus in my personal history.
There has NEVER been any “happy endings.” Nothing even close. Just one bat-shit-crazy puke raining out of the universe at me after another, since I was born.