I can arrange the words in this sentence in a way that they appear to be in a circle .
But what happens to the circle when the words are spoken. Poof.
So no one’s allowed to narrate this. The only narrator for this story is the narrator I have created. And what significance of the circle, you ask? I would have preferred a Möbius strip, to be honest. Point is my cynical narrator is a snake chasing its own tail in his quest to find answers to the most vexing of existential questions. Very meta.
Do things happen for a reason? Literally, of course they do. But that is not what you mean when you say things happen for a reason. What you mean is there is a grand scheme for things happening the way they do. Like it’s all a part of the bigger picture which is somehow going to be rewarding. Like this fucking tree that fell on my car. Probably happened for a reason that it prevented me from dying in a car crash the next day. Isn’t that so?
Convenient since I am not the narrator of my story. My real story. Not this story. Here I can choose as many loopholes as I want to fit a bloat of hungry hippos into. Here I can choose the narrator while I monitor him closely. He will ponder endlessly about the choices he made, justifying his decisions, with no counter arguments except his sorrows.
In any case I live vicariously through my narrator as he searches for the happiness equation. Two nights in Vegas, one minute in heaven, five seconds of an orgasm… whatever that is. But his quest must not end. For if it did, then what next?