What a curious curiosity it is that there are some people in this world of ours who chose to allow themselves to become infatuated with the mystical and illogical beliefs of horoscopes.
Not only that but superstitions can effect a good number of right minded individuals to a point of near catatonic hysteria.
For some it the number 13, or the date of Friday the 13th.
|Good product placement or just bad luck?|
For others it is any given number of black and white avian creatures that happen to congregate near to where they might be at that time, resulting in a myriad of strange rituals and salutes.
Crossing felines, disrupting the coherent structure of polish metal incased in glass, putting shoes on tables. All of these and more can bring some folks to a complete stand still if the correct procedure is not partaken within a nanoseconds thought.
Bad luck, good luck, fate and my own particular favourite – DESTINY, are all complete and utter toss.
I fail to understand how anyone can believe themselves to be so important in the grand scheme of existence that other living creatures who live primarily on instinct alone for most of their fleeting lives are able to collect together in groups of four and settle just within viewing distance of your eye to inform you that “it’s a boy”.
Who the flipping heck, if they had the power to utilise a half dozen mindless creatures in such a way, would spend their afternoon arranging four magpies to sit and/or fly across your field of vision to let you know “Gold” is the answer.
|Piss off you.|
Walking under ladders I understand. There is a logical reason for not walking under a ladder, but it nothing to do with bad luck.
Bad luck does not exist.
Nor does good luck.
A mutated trifolium leaf can not in any way shape of form bestow upon a person any form of better fortune.
It can not.
That does not happen.
|pretty, but it's just some weather...|
Nor does refracted light from a downpour of water that offers a double spectrum of visible colour make things special.
Its just nature and science.
It is what it is.
People who believe in lucky numbers and live by those self imposed restrictions when offered said numbers are simpletons at best.
Having said that I do think the end neigh for Bumferry Hogart
(it could be sooner than I think if I catch myself using the third person narrative like that again!)
The portents of doom have been hovering around me this week.
First of all, and possibly most disturbingly, on returning from a shopping trip I discovered my bag for life had ripped.
All in all, not a good sign, I’m sure you will agree.
|No, you really don't want to see my singed gut!|
Then on Thursday whilst burning some incriminating evidence/ business paperwork in the searing mini heat wave we have all been enjoying, I found myself stood too close to the bin and burnt my belly button. (you really don’t want to see a picture of that!)
A close call indeed.
They say bad luck comes in threes, so this weekend I will ensure I will be keeping my distance from any black cats, ladders, broken mirrors, upturned knives, slippery floors, and loose electrical fittings.
You just can’t be too careful these days.
I’ve never considered myself the sort of person who believes in luck or good fortune.
I am not a believer in any religious faith (although I have great admiration for those who do) and only choose to utter the words of a deity when stubbing my toe upon a corner of a table and such.
Luck is not something that follows around. Fate is a construct of the human mind. Destiny is just a simple device used by literature and the fantasy media to give meaning to a loosely formed plot.
That said, I have bought loads of tickets for this weeks Euro lottery so - Fingers crossed!!!
ps- Sorry if the colour of the words is a bit weird but I don't know what I have done to break the internet again. Normal service will be resumed shortly.