I enjoy the epiphanies
When I see the Lego of my Life
Tiny multicolored blocks
Of different decisions
Some inflicted
Some conquered
Most of them happenstance-
All assembled by butterflies
Sweeping in through
the Doors of Chance.
I wonder at the thought
of skipping the
worst of my life.
I shudder at the drought
of the lack of wisdom
from that strife.
The mistakes,
The dread, the trains
That I missed
The calls, the turns,
The girls
That I kissed
All have made me
Who I am
Lucky, Smart and Dumb
But Me, only me
In the Aftersome.
* * *
Aftersome-adj. astonished to think back on the bizarre sequence of accidents that brought you to where you are today—as if you’d spent years bouncing down a Plinko pegboard, passing through a million harmless decision points, any one of which might’ve changed everything—which makes your long and winding path feel fated from the start, yet so unlikely as to be virtually impossible. From The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows.
