I didn't have a plan B. I barely had a plan A. Then I was thinking that what I really need to do is stop trying to have a plan.
Sometimes I think my brain is like one of those squiddy sentinels from the Matrix, the ones that are just hell bent on ripping everything to shreds and creating utter chaos via destruction, yet it's all done in a very calculated, methodical way.
So it all boils down to me rethinking and restructuring things, yet again, because I can't keep from wanting to have some kind of blueprint for what's going on. Taurus. We like to have structure. I find no peace in saying, "Oh, fuck it, let the chips fall." That just seems to be the philosophy of someone who doesn't know what they're doing or what they want to do. That seems lost.
But I do sort of question fate a bit here. You can try to make plans but that doesn't mean they're going to work out. I feel now like I wasn't so much making plans as trying to force situations into becoming what I wanted them to be. Or thought I wanted them to be. And I've been ruminating over the balance of things, the predetermined versus the completely random. It's all very esoteric in some respects, but the outcome of these revisions in my thought patterns remains no matter how I evaluate it.
I am wrong all the time.
And now I don't trust myself.
