Foxes and butterflies...

Ocassionaly I feel like my life is a movie and I'm just watching from the outside. Shut up everyone, I do. Sometimes I narrate what's going on in my head with clever little sidenotes like some autobiography that being spoken into existence. A pair of butterflies were flitting in from my jeep the other day in perfect time to the music on the radio and then I parted them as I drove and watched them reunite in my rearview mirrow and continue their waltz in midair. I thought, that was a particularly well done scene. I mean my life won't win any oscars or anything, but it's not half bad for a low budget film. I never really know what I'm going to do next and keep myself at the edge of my seat. I guess it's actually God that keeps my guessing though.

Ever read those books with alternate endings? Like the one about the fox and he comes to a descision and you turn to a different page for each choice and suffer the rewards or consequences for that path? I used to flip ahead and see what would happen before I picked...the purpose of the book was lost on me, I just wanted my fox to survive. Sometimes I wish I could do that in real life. I suppose it's better not to know since we can't turn back the pages and choose the other one, but still, I half wonder if I just sent myself across a road into the direct path of a semi.