I used to love the Choose Your Own Adventure books series when I was a kid. It seemed very realistic that all throughout the story you could make choices. (I really liked realism.) Then you would turn to a specific page, based on a specific choice, and read on from there until you're faced with more decisions, etc. The story turns out very differently for each person who reads the book. Same story, same book, different outcomes.
I woke up this morning thinking life is a Choose Your Own Hell story. Or Choose Your Own Nightmare. It's as if, by living life, we know that regardless of which choices we make, the end result is going to suck. I know that's not true, it just seems like it sometimes. Life really is just an ADVENTURE, and nothing worse than that. But it's like an Indiana Jones adventure, where all the rules are written by the same jerk who wrote Murphy's Law. If you fire your revolver, it will be out of bullets; if you're thrown into a pit and sealed in, the pit will be full of snakes; if you're imprisoned there with a beautiful woman, she'll (naturally) be someone who hates you; if you succeed in finding the Ark Of the Covenant, some brilliant idiot will make sure it gets hidden forever in a vast Smithsonian warehouse.
But, over all, it was a great adventure... right?
