See friends, I have this theory where everything happens for a reason—like in the movies, where it all works out. Where something as terrible as innocent Summer Flinn tearing apart Tom Hansen’s pulsing heart into crude pieces of one, will happen because, in the end, he’s met his true soul mate in the corniest, or cleverest, way possible. My theory is unique, you say? No, of course not. What I’d like to add to the whole… “everything-happens-for-a-reason-and-it-will-all-work-out” thing is this: don’t try to figure it out. If you try to figure out the plot of your own happiness, it has to recalculate its GPS to a new route (but I suppose this is better than the “if I told you I’d have to kill you” scenario). This is my theory, my philosophy. Once you whip out the magnifying glass and start trying to play Sherlock, your chances at a swiftly arriving joyful year are screwed.
You might catch yourself doing this without meaning to—stop over thinking before it’s too late. Your fate is a surprise. The doctor informs you you’re going to die, don’t ask when. We can’t plan or try to manipulate our destiny; it just happens to us. Life is full of surprises: it is THE ultimate box of Russell Stover. We may think we have an idea of what’s going to happen, but really we can only truly know the gist of things.
Stop trying to figure out the mystery, and just enjoy the flick. You may not like a few scenes, but hopefully it’s worth it in the end.
In the meantime, keep popping those turtles & truffles—without looking at the candy-filling map.
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