Life is a joke

Life has a pretty much ironic way of resolving the issues we have. Fritz Haber aimed to create a gas able of killing thousands, invented the Haber Process, gas obtained ended up saving millions of lives. By producing ammonia at most efficient rates, intensive farming has been enabled and fed whole countries- not much as for the nickname of father of chemical warfare, Fritz.

    Let’s meet the most amazing person to us. Let’s both become sure each is just the type of person we could spend our lives with. And then, come back to our lives cause you two live thousands of miles away. Probably married. With kids.
    Let’s go on meticulously planned trip to a seaside, just to be welcomed by heavy clouds ready to take a rain piss on you.
    Let’s make A to really like B, and guess what, B likes C. Sometimes even C is into A, which would be a threshold of irony, borderline with just plain evil.
   I know how some people say life is the best screenplay. But if God exists, sometimes I wonder whether he is a sadistic maniac watching us run in circles over and over again, making us think “Dammit I’m mad” – which is even more funny considering that this phrase is a palindrome.
    Moreover, life has geared us (or at least some of us) with an amazing skill, just fit to fuck with our minds even more. Intuition. How many times have you said “I knew it would happen”? Too many, I guess. And even worse case is saying it and actually not falling for the hindsight bias- this is what is called Murphy’s Law. Sometimes, you might even end up having a true epiphany, a moment of revelation, but in the end all your dreams, and your deja-vu feelings combined with conspiracy theories that humans create leave us further than any closer to making sense.
All ambigrams that you tattoo on your forearms are just a perfect metaphor of what I’m saying. That is just a tribute for all the twisted life scenarios and us, running in circles, thinking we’re getting closer to something. I like how Mick Jagger phrases that. What’s confusing you is just the nature of my game, just as every cop is a criminal, and all the sinners saints, as heads as tails, just call me, Lucifer (and how exactly do you call it when it just so happens that as I write it, it’s Friday the 13th?)
    Hookup? Why are we able to give all of us to a stranger, but cannot be sincere with closest friends?
   Or even the fact that internationals often speak English to the poshest level possible, moulding the language, creating neologisms and portmanteau words accordingly to their needs and yet Americans still can’t tell the difference between your and you’re.
   I tend to say that nothing ever surprises me. I think of a person I haven’t spoken to for years; actually, not even think, they just come across my mind for a brief minute and- baam!, next day they write to me. I try not to be surprised when that happnes. It holds true as long as you accept that in some ways (many ways, to be honest) life is, actually, a joke. As long as you do not try to control it, nothing can surprise you. The moment you let go is the moment you take the steer.
(Oh, the irony of that conclusion.)