A House of Cards...

Today is just... odd. Yesterday's plans dissipated. And I'm feeling a bit strange about everything. I haven't heard from my friend in over 36 hours.

I canceled on Monday night with a bad stomach ache and some slight uneasiness. Perhaps I nodded off for a while, but I swear I heard the muffled sound of someone calling my name three or four times around midnight, but I could chalk that one up to arguing downstairs neighbors. Last night, I decided, for old time's sake, to drag out the old tarot deck. I pulled three cards at random.

Of the 78 cards in a deck, odds are slim that the first card pulled out would be one specific one. I felt a prolonged and uneasy "oookay" escape my lips. Half of me says, "It's just a tarot deck," while the other half thinks back to the several times they've been dead-on. The point of me bringing it up in the first place isn't some "believe... believe in the tarot..." rant or anything like it. I just would rather mention it ahead of time, just in case. If I said anything after the fact, it could lose its charm. Not that such a word is a good choice.

In some ways, "it's all a bunch of hocus pocus". Anyone who has ever read tarot can tell you that it's wide-open to interpretation. No card says any one exact thing. They give a variety of choices. You arrive at your own opinions from them, and see what happens. Deep down, I have two scenarios for the disappearance of my friend which won't go away. But I'll wait until something definite is said before I assume anything.

Sometimes, not knowing is a bad thing. But knowing can be worse. Ignorance is bliss, while those who are aware of everything tend to be more miserable from having such opened eyes. For now, I don't know anything about the past two days. And until I do, I'll try my best to be blissfully ignorant.