We live in irony

We live in

the strange and

subtle irony

of existing each day,

not as we want,

or even what

we planned to be,

but as the

state of the world

and the unfolding

universe of others

and things

causes us to be.


We can decide

and perhaps say

which way we

might go

at moments

in the mythical

timeline of our lives,

but in the end

we live in

this intricate irony

of wanting to choose,

and believing we

have chosen,

but really having it

chosen for us.


If there is a thing

called freedom,

then at best

it offers only

partial choice,

and at worst

layers of  cruel irony

which submerge us

in ways of living

and modes of being

that we may not have wanted

or even planned.