Throwing Ducks at Balloons

I'm sure people have said this before, but thinking about life on a universal scale makes going to work each day pretty damn pointless. Yet I/we continue to go. Because I expect it of me. Where else would I be? Doing what I want to do with my life? Nooooo, that's ludicrous.

Expectations of me > me. Doesn't matter who's doing the expecting; I will always comply. But what happens when there are no more expectations? Do I actively seek out more? I seemed to do so after college: The one point in my life where I/anyone had nothing to expect. I guess that's a frightening point. It may relate back to a sense of purpose all of us think we have. Without expectations, there is no purpose. Without purpose, there is no life (according to many (religious types (in general))).

Yet I have life. I'm living it right now... Maybe not ideally, or correctly, but there were experiences had and scars inflicted to prove them.

Anyway, now I expect myself to go to work everyday. There is nothing written anywhere to change that. It is... my dessstiny. But free will triumphs over destiny in the end. Sweet. But what if I chose destiny? The whole thing collapses upon itself after that.

I think I've already chosen destiny in a way. I've pointed myself in a direction and propelled myself through space... without any regard to the physics involved. I seem to think that that only thing that can deter my path is some external force. A mass traveling through space cannot accelerate/decelerate on its own. However, as a human, I could latch onto another force within a close proximity to myself and alter my path that way. Problem is, there is a lack of these forces. So I'm forced to continue through the universe like Bender until that supercomputer/god thing can fling me somewhere else. That would be something.



Oh late afternoon Fridays, how dare you make me write such things....