The things you hate having done to you is somehow what you end up doing to others.
The person you hate the most is somehow a reflection of yourself.
Just when you let go, it all comes back to you.
I used to think that life is full of irony…but then I realized that as humans, we tend to see patterns and connections everywhere. Incongruous events are seen as ironic, and congruous ones are seen as fated. The ones that are neither completely congruous nor incongruous are either forgotten or unnoticed.
Is life actually filled of irony, or are humans just pathetic to extrapolate the importance and meanings of our lives?