Destined fate

Some people say, "Man is a slave to fate, and he can't change the journey of life, while dreams are an unreachable horizon, which can't be pursued."

I am a child who likes fate. For a long time, I was obsessed. I explore things about life, about myself and about eternity in various ways. The corner of the room is full of test instruments. I was fascinated by their innate magic when I was not careful. Open Carol. I use it to predict my future. The "wheel of life" represents new hope, I believe. So it became a signpost of my life. I believe in Carol, just as I believe that the earth will not perish in my lifetime.

Spread out my palm, I saw scattered lines intertwined with each other. The fortune teller said that I would be very successful in the future, and I believed it, and so did my father. But my left hand makes me afraid of fate, and a long line is wrapped around it. I'm not afraid of the shortness of life, but I'm afraid I can't escape my fate.

I know life too well. I have experienced a brilliant flower season and a painful rainy season. Now I am standing in the helpless 18-year-old sky, looking for my airspace. Maybe I am destined to return empty-handed, maybe I have to wait. I came to a familiar but unfamiliar world with a heavy heart, saying that it was familiar because the books that accompanied me were still the same, and the strangers were only the people and things around me. I thought I could be reborn this time, but I was wrong. Fate made me give up so many precious things to take me to find this lost truth, but I was lost in the ocean of knowledge, reading familiar words, but there was an unspeakable confusion. The choice this time is doomed that I cannot be reborn.

Looking at the passage of time, I no longer believe my beloved Carlo. Maybe it has been covered with dust, or maybe it is absorbing the aura of heaven and earth, waiting for me to open it again, because Carlo's life has only one master. I gave up it, gave up the "wheel of life", gave up the road signs, gave up the facts that I thought were important, and was forced to return to the original place again and again. Watching myself being mercilessly played by fate, I couldn't touch any hope about life, so I explored life. I began to regret it. I measure my life by something called fate. I lost too much, too much.

In fact, in the end, I realized that I was wrong. The cycle of fate is just an experience, not the so-called fate. There are too many elements in it that I can't fathom, just a deliberate concern. Looking at the road under your feet, who will say that this is not the horizon in your dream? There are too many opportunities in life that fate can't stop. And I, too obsessed with fate, missed too many beautiful scenery and too many opportunities for rebirth. In the end, I became a slave to fate, and fate became my eternal tie.