No matter how far, or how often you move around, your fatalistic outlook on life follows you everywhere. The whole "I'm taking my life in a new direction" and how you're "gonna do things differently now", "seize the day" and what nonsense is just a fad. Once it's over, the brooding inner pessimist re-emerges.
It's just been on holiday, it didn't really bid adieu for good. And it choose the very moment when you least expect it to turn up to show its face. Moments such as those of which you could not have seen coming, moments such as those when it is least welcome.
It stops you in your tracks, leaves you feeling less than happy despite being in an environment that would encourage otherwise.
And so you concede to fate. For it is fate that has orchestrated the events that have led you to be in such a state of mind.
Fate just does what it does best - and that is to fuck you up.
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