I like to think that we are all nothing more than cosmic dust in the wind; bits of exploded stars from the distant past, to become nothing more than particles all but infinitely recycled into new stars of the distant future. We are so comically infinitesimal that our "will" and our "choices" ultimately mean absolutely nothing, so even if you believe that we have control over our own "destiny", your beliefs don't change the universe's vast, implacable indifference towards us.
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