The Third

The charm, they say. But miss then strike out, they say. I say I don't believe in any of that. I say luck is an illusion of a blinded optimist and fate is the script of a realist. Opportunists are scavengers of this virtual world and I am somewhat a series of empty canvases.

It's hard to believe anything you read or hear or watch today. As long as you are breathing you are vulnerable to lies. Trust can only go to a certain extent until it too may falter.  

We can only rely on a few true sources. But when that too becomes the target of corruption then it gives a reason for humanity to fail. A reason for the world to end. Theories upon theories are built up, piled onto each other, just so they would erase the fear of judgment day by scheming an escape. Nonsensical optimists... 
The day will come.

What I say isn't always what I believe. I don't really say what I really do, but it can be obvious if you see. I'd like to be more assured than I am though. But like I said, I am somewhat a series of empty canvases. They are painted over and over again. Just because the combination of colours seem to portray a picture, it doesn't necessarily have a meaning. In other words, they are still empty. So they will continually be painted upon until they have at least a few. These series of canvases.

I do not predict my fate but I am no optimist.