inquiry.

selfishly, like the next person, I would love for things in life to go my way.
so everything would come to be & seem much easier.

to the point where
fate or destiny would manifestly show it's face
letting you in on
bits and pieces of everything known

to the point where
the future would give you an
expected preview of what's to come

to the point where
you had the choice of
coming to an agreement with the past
pronouncing which memories , events, and things
you wanted to remember
and which ones you wanted forgotten.

to the point where
there was an answer for everything..

but then ,
wouldn't that take the exhilaration out of life?
the meaning?
the mystery?
the lessons learned to lead you to what's destined?
the anticipation for meliorated futuristic reality?
wouldn't that make us weak?

i'm also speculating
with curiosity
why life doesn't seem as invigorating
as the lives of characters in the fiction works
i find myself lost and captured in?