Status: About to give up on this story x(
A little too ironic
Twelfth of April, 2009
It has been just over a year since I started having these thoughts; since things started to become more and more ironic to me. Over the past year I had been through a lot. And so much of it had seemed ironic to me.
To win the lottery and die the next day? Have a black fly in my Chardonnay? A death row pardon two minutes too late? A traffic jam when you’re already late? To meet the man of my dreams and then meet his beautiful wife? A free ride when you have already paid? And rain on my wedding day?
Sure, some of these things were just part of everyday life. Part of the weather patterns or living in the city or even just pure bad luck. But it was only now that I realised just how ironic they seemed to me. Maybe I was changing and had found a new way of looking at life. Maybe I was just searching for something to blame or accuse. Or maybe these weren’t ironic and I was just over thinking them.
I honestly didn’t know what to think or what to believe anymore. But as I set here in my warm, fluffy winter pyjamas and reminisce over all that has occurred in the past year I can’t help but think that maybe these were signs. Maybe it was a chance for me to change my way of thinking, my way of life.
To show that you never know when you were going to kick the can or have a stroke of good luck or even bad luck for that matter. To prove that life was really just one long and unending lesson. We were always learning whether we are 2 or 82 and maybe, just maybe, before this past year I was totally naïve to that fact.
But as I write these last words on the last page in my diary I can’t help but smile. I am growing up. I’m still young, but I am growing up and I am proud of all that has happened in this past year. The ups have balanced the downs, the good balanced the bad.
And with that said, I shall shut this book and close the door to this chapter of my life. I am positive another will open in its place and take me on another rollercoaster of challenges and lessons. For I will forever be learning till the day I die.
To win the lottery and die the next day? Have a black fly in my Chardonnay? A death row pardon two minutes too late? A traffic jam when you’re already late? To meet the man of my dreams and then meet his beautiful wife? A free ride when you have already paid? And rain on my wedding day?
Sure, some of these things were just part of everyday life. Part of the weather patterns or living in the city or even just pure bad luck. But it was only now that I realised just how ironic they seemed to me. Maybe I was changing and had found a new way of looking at life. Maybe I was just searching for something to blame or accuse. Or maybe these weren’t ironic and I was just over thinking them.
I honestly didn’t know what to think or what to believe anymore. But as I set here in my warm, fluffy winter pyjamas and reminisce over all that has occurred in the past year I can’t help but think that maybe these were signs. Maybe it was a chance for me to change my way of thinking, my way of life.
To show that you never know when you were going to kick the can or have a stroke of good luck or even bad luck for that matter. To prove that life was really just one long and unending lesson. We were always learning whether we are 2 or 82 and maybe, just maybe, before this past year I was totally naïve to that fact.
But as I write these last words on the last page in my diary I can’t help but smile. I am growing up. I’m still young, but I am growing up and I am proud of all that has happened in this past year. The ups have balanced the downs, the good balanced the bad.
And with that said, I shall shut this book and close the door to this chapter of my life. I am positive another will open in its place and take me on another rollercoaster of challenges and lessons. For I will forever be learning till the day I die.
♠ ♠ ♠
So no one actually read this story but oh well. It's finished. If anyone makes it this far... Please leave a comment and let me know if you liked it?Cheers.