Adjustments

I choose my love stories discriminatingly. I reject those that are teary, very contrived, and melodramatic; with dialogues so unnatural, they could just as well be reading straight from script, uttering words one normally does not utter, even when in love. I like those that are out of the ordinary, the ones that are not commonplace, almost out of this world. Yet, they bring out love's strongest arguments. Like David and Elise in "The Adjustment Bureau."

A long time ago, I had thought that a single point in time may proceed to an infinite number of points, with each point being a "possibility," and each possibility may then proceed to its own infinite number of possibilities, and so on. It was an insight that came out of nowhere, and it gave me inexplicable joy.

I liked David and Elise's possibilities, the apparent randomness of it all; and, yet, predestiny always seemed to dictate that their paths crossed. It reinforces my belief that people were born either for greatness or mediocrity, either for joy or sadness, either for success or failure. Neither prayer nor saintly intercession would help if we had been doomed from the start. And neither calamities, man-made or otherwise nor other people's ill will would keep one from success. From the womb, one is ordained for any of these destinies.

If there were an Adjustment Bureau, then I hope they find my life worthy of some adjustments and fine tuning. My life has, so far, been simple and wonderful. I can't complain. But I am at a point that is like some dead neuron or synapse failing to connect to the other side. A jolt may be required to restart the progression to my infinite possibilities. The Bureau put David back on track. I wish it would do the same for me.

I liked David and Elise's doors which opened to surprise destinations. I can only imagine how it must feel to be able to open doors to possibilities. I haven't had that many doors in my life; or maybe I just did not see them. Maybe too many mundane concerns preoccupied me. And now, the doors have become more and more infrequent. How many more doors have I left? Or have they already run out?