And no matter how well I explain it, I mean, I truly believe there exists some combination

of words. There must exist certain words, in a certain, specific order that would explain

all of this.

And no matter how well I explain it, I mean, I truly believe there exists some combination

of words. There must exist certain words, in a certain, specific order that would explain

all of this.

Think of the odds.

Think of the odds of even going and seeing that night in that bar next to that man.

The universe is random. It's not inevitable. It's simple chaos.

It's subatomic particles in endless, aimless collision. That's what science teaches us.

But what is this saying? What is it telling us when, on the very night, it's me who's

having a drink with him?

How can that be random?