I don’t believe in luck and yet it infiltrates my thoughts when it deems itself most convenient. if I sit in my room, playing whatever silly match-three has snatched up my interest this week, my losses are justified by, “see, it’s really just luck-based. I would’ve won with better patterns already existing on the board.” obviously, what I mean here is that it’s based in randomization, yet I never seem to think so. and the same if I see a story of a person or family suffering the worst life can offer and pity the down-on-their-luck few. it’s as if I am looking for something, someone else to blame for my misdeeds, misfortunes, but I never feel lucky when I avoid them on my own. good luck is used sarcastically or when offering pleasant nothings to those around me. now, the concept of luck confuses me as well as irks me, but considering it is something to do while I wait for new lives on my match-three game. lucky me.