Invisible Monkeys Doing Morse Code

In 2002, I stopped believing in the "meant to be."

I guess that means I gave up on "fate". Geez, might as well toss in divine interventions, karma, prayers, and other stuff of the non-chaos kind.

I have become comfortably at ease knowing life is a splattering of random events -- a white noise static of bleeps, dots and dashes which we navigate on a whim until either chaos or time snuffs us out. But every now and then...

Do you ever notice a pattern in the static??

Someone says something here, that relates to what just happened there -- which gets repeated by a stranger the next day, who sends you to visit this guy, which leads you to call a friend, whom you know you helped with your call, and you're not even making any of it happen, you're just living your life, but it goes on and on...

Well, since New Year Eve, this has been happening to me. Unbelieveable irony, concentric circles of happenstance, and poignant life narrative. I'm almost reluctant to mention it, as if looking it in the eye would make it disappear. But that would imply that I believe in some sort of superstition, which I don't (see above first 3 sentences).

But maybe instead I believe that there are invisible monkeys running around all of us with little monkey telegraph machines, trying to send us messages in their own monkey way. It's sort of like the monkeys with typewriters eventually writing Shakespeare, but that's just silly -- and I'm throwing out the Shakespeare part because that just isn't the right metaphor.

Every now and then, the cacaphony of dots and dashes become coherent and the monkeys get through to us. And they don't feel invisible anymore. It's fascinating. But when I typically try to dissect the monkey message, I am left perplexed and empty. But this time...

Rather than search the message for meaning, I'll just be content that the monkeys are there. And that, this time, I'm actually doing some tap, tap, tapping myself.