He would be successful. A “credible” fortuneteller told of my fate.
It wasn’t my palm which she read but my friend’s; I was just part of the reading. In one of her predictions, the fortuneteller told my friend, “You have two important men in your lives right now… they will be both successful.” The fortuneteller did not explicitly mention my name, but I know I’m very well ranked in my friend’s Important Friends list. Talk about confidence.
(The fortuneteller and I could have been easily best friends if not for the scary part of how she established her credibility. I decided not share it here because I can’t help but feel she has the capability to detect if people talk/think/blog about her.)
When my friend told me about my life forecast, I just carried on my life like I just heard some average news. I didn’t want to look like I didn’t have enough belief in myself! Poker face. But inwardly, I was like, “I knew I’m destined to be a president one day!” Or was it something more modest like, “I knew I was going to be successful in the future!”?
It’s difficult to dismiss such a very positive prediction. Hello, who wouldn’t want to be successful? So since then, it’s become a belief. Not that I wasn’t sure of my capacity and where it can lead me but to get a divine reaffirmation, that’s really something!
It’s been years now since the horoscope was read and the last time I’ve thought/believed it. I only got reminded of it now because I’m faced with a crisis that it once eliminated from my child’s thoughts.
Will I be really successful? If I would, how will I know? Is there some sort of a marker? A tool to measure it?
(I would have included the question whether I can still be a president but who am I kidding?)
How will I be successful? Do I really want to be successful? Does success promise happiness—because I’d really want to be happy more than anything else?
These are just a sampling of the questions gnawing away at me. And another tea-leaf reading wouldn’t reassure me.
Why did I ever decide to be an adult? Oh wait. I actually know why—because that’s what everyone else did.