Two purebred labradors.
Same breed. Similar lineage. Practically identical DNA.
One eats bananas like it’s his calling in life.
The other looks at a banana like it’s an existential mistake.
How does that happen?
You can replicate the blueprint.
You can control the environment.
And still—different choices, different behaviors, different beings.
It’s easy to forget how much variation exists beneath apparent sameness.
We like patterns. We want predictability.
But living things, unlike machines, come with subtlety. With agency.
Even identical twins—those supposed human photocopies—grow up into people with distinct fears, different humor, unique dreams. One becomes a pilot. One writes novels. One loves the city, the other the silence of forests. All that from the same starting point.
So what’s going on?
Maybe the formula is incomplete.
Maybe we’re not just nature + nurture.
Maybe there’s a third element—call it randomness, call it spirit, call it soul—that adds unpredictability to the equation.
A sort of divine dice roll baked into existence.
Not chaos. Just uniqueness.
And maybe that’s the point.
Maybe the universe isn’t trying to mass-produce consistency.
Maybe it’s running experiments. Millions of them.
Tweaking variables.
Watching what happens when one dog eats the banana and one does not.
It makes you wonder:
How much of who we are was planned?
And how much just emerged?
Because if two labradors—born to sniff, fetch, and follow—can diverge on something as simple as fruit…
What does that say about people?
Maybe your weird taste, your odd instinct, your quiet refusal to follow the crowd—maybe those aren’t bugs in the system.
Maybe they’re the point.