I Have No Idea What The Hell To Call This Random Shit

The taps and bottles call to all sitting at the mahogany bar of this establishment. Some are here to forget. Others laugh about the days happenings in the company of close acquaintances. And, still, others sit here watching everyone else, contemplating the ups and downs of life. I exist quietly within the latter pondering the essence of reality... the interwoven thoroughfares of infinite possibility that have brought all of us together her this evening. But, what of it? Those words are just a pretty way of painting over life's randomness. It's been said that the decisions you make dictate the life you lead. There is a lot of truth in that. However, it seems plausible that the decisions we make are sometimes dictated by the randomness of life... a constant game of chance that we play against ourselves and one that the reality in which we exist plays against our psyches. A mental catch twenty-two. We struggle to predict a future which has yet to be written and this only causes us to set up temporary roadblocks on our path toward real self-actualization. We tend to never really find ourselves because of the constant search to find our place in a boundless reality. Some people may get close to this idea of being one's self in it's truest variety but an inner sense of investigation always returns keeping them from attaining that highest, most awesome version of their being. Existence is a limitless game of jeopardy. Life is the answer provided to, us, the contestants. We, each and every one of us, are left to ask the questions. And, not one question is correct in a realm with no bounds. Yet, just the same, maybe all questions are right. They definitely should be asked. But, one thing is for certain.... If you spend your life answering questions instead of asking them then you really aren't playing the game at all.