The Oracle

Have a friend, used to be girlfriend. Reluctant to admit the oracle-like qualities about her. Her ability to predict me in the future uncanny, wonder if she knows one thing or two things about fate. Maybe prophecies just self-fulfilling. Not sure. Told me long time ago I'd feel one way and do something, I did. Similar prophetic challenge was made again not long ago, at the time dismissed it but now seems like strangling truth. Feeling just the way she said, awful feeling of knowing that someone said something in face and it was correct. Wonder how see-through this self has become. Perhaps not prophecy at all, just obvious outcome right under nose, a feeling that they can all tell is blossoming, except me.Why? Skull too chaotic: hate, fear, greed. Won't let it come true. Why?

Hate when other people are right about life. The cord will be cut at any cost, even if it means doing terrible things. Don't know what is worse, being miserable or being in no way in control of own life--absolute predictability. No. The summer months come and soon all the trappings and torments of this wretched sector of earth will be scorched from memory. Wonderment at the swirling fantasies, terror and rage at the un-underminable reality of the matter. Wrongness and rightness are not so easily named anymore. Naught much remains to do but crush potentiality under the boot heel with whatever fork-tongue malice is needed. Cut off the talking head of the snake, apple still on branch, ending unknown.