Fate or chaos?

Sitting at my kitchen table, staring at a blank screen. Fingers on keys. Coffee beside me.

Torrential downpour thrashes against my windows, with deep booming thunder and blinding-quick shots of lightning.

A bouquet of white flowers (lilies?) from my work sits beside me, consuming every intake of breath with its sweet scent. So lovely.

It’s been a struggle to write. It’s a daunting feeling. Writing is thinking, and right now, thinking just feels overwhelming.

I rather write to friends. Listen to music. Allow myself to be enveloped in the goodness of others.

Because there’s no perspective to be had. I’m not on the other side of anything.

My dad was sick for eight months.
An eternity. The speed of dark.

For the last couple of days, I’ve been held hostage by photo albums of the past. But I've since stuffed them back in the closet, on the top shelf, where they belong. Nostalgia is a fickle thing; it can turn on you without caution.

Do you believe in fate/destiny or are we spinning in random chaos? Do we meet the people in our lives for a reason, however brief or long-lasting they may choose to stay?

Maybe fate and chaos are intertwined, a continual push and pull, a forever unfolding.