Revolutionary Rants

Floating around, bored, on the internet. Like I occasionally do I meandered over to the site of a certain ex-pat in Paris who got fired and now has an impending book. She is on about “Fate” today, and how unlikely it was that she met her current partner. “Chance”, “fate”, “maybe”… Isn’t that true of almost all relationships?

Of my “boyfriend” type people, one used to be a pen friend, one helped me fix my computer the first day I went in CSB (the library) at University, one I met online and one had worked on the Uni paper that day and came back for a cheeky pint post-cinema. All pretty chancy, really. Especially Chicken, really. My head was in a terrible place, I had an exam that day, weirdness was going on in my student house. Yet, in the midst of not looking, there he was. ‘He’s nice’ thinks a certain frizzy haired anarchist. Sadly, by the time we (Sandra and I) returned from having our tea for the night out, he was gone again. But then came “fate” - he returned after seeing X Men 2 and the only stool was next to me…

Fate? Chance? Perhaps, but I doubt it somehow. Either everything is fate, everything happens for a reason or else everything is utterly random. I reckon the latter more likely…