I guess we could discuss the implications of the phrase "meant to be." That is if we wanted to drown ourselves in a sea of backwardly referential semantics and other mumbo-jumbo. Maybe such a discussion would result in the determination that "meant to be" is exactly as meaningless a phrase as it seems to be, and that none of us is actually meant to be doing anything at all. But that's my existential underpants underpinnings showing. It's the way the cookie crumbles. And now I want a cookie.
They rushed out the door, grabbing anything and everything they could think of they might need. There was no time to double-check to make sure they weren't leaving something important behind. Everything was thrown into the car and they sped off. Thirty minutes later they were safe and that was when it dawned on them that they had forgotten the most important thing of all.
Dave found joy in the daily routine of life. He awoke at the same time, ate the same breakfast and drove the same commute. He worked at a job that never seemed to change and he got home at 6 pm sharp every night. It was who he had been for the last ten years and he had no idea that was all about to change.
Was it enough? That was the question he kept asking himself. Was being satisfied enough? He looked around him at everyone yearning to just be satisfied in their daily life and he had reached that goal. He knew that he was satisfied and he also knew it wasn't going to be enough.
It went through such rapid contortions that the little bear was forced to change his hold on it so many times he became confused in the darkness, and could not, for the life of him, tell whether he held the sheep right side up, or upside down. But that point was decided for him a moment later by the animal itself, who, with a sudden twist, jabbed its horns so hard into his lowest ribs that he gave a grunt of anger and disgust.
It was going to rain. The weather forecast didn't say that, but the steel plate in his hip did. He had learned over the years to trust his hip over the weatherman. It was going to rain, so he better get outside and prepare.
It was a weird concept. Why would I really need to generate a random paragraph? Could I actually learn something from doing so? All these questions were running through her head as she pressed the generate button. To her surprise, she found what she least expected to see.
Here's the thing. She doesn't have anything to prove, but she is going to anyway. That's just her character. She knows she doesn't have to, but she still will just to show you that she can. Doubt her more and she'll prove she can again. We all already know this and you will too.