The inconvenience of the coincidence, left me infused with the confused and the determination to be a lot more pre-dict-ta-ble. As it is told, my country of birth is a mere coincidence (much like Columbus’ coincidental boat ride to India – so I’m told). My ability to read and write? A coincidence, no explanation needed. For every affect there must be an effect, [so I was told]. If we can explain it via the science, then what we have is a ‘coincidence’ (con in science)
Coincidence is King, and I am its joker. I choose my words carefully (and not so carefully, sometimes). But why had I even bothered! It is coincidence’s words that hail supreme. My words (and my thoughts) screamingly falling behind. ‘Coincidence is dead, long live Coincidence’. I am a walking and breathing example of the inconveniences of my all coincidences – from my birth to my eventual death. ‘Cause of death?’ they will ask. Coincidence.
I once fell in love (ok maybe more than once, I will admit), the crazy drug-like euphoria and rush a coincidence. Or have I, once again, fallen into the con in science? And dare I say, by coincidence, I too have fallen-out of love, which I can assure you was both totally and utterly inconvenient: I left infused in the confused but now, feeling much more content in knowing it was all down to a mere…. coincidence.