Random has never been a part of my life,
Everything in my life has been planned.
Despite its recent popularity and fandom
In the social media and lifestyle of today,
Random has been removed from my vocabulary.
When I see objects and papers out of order, scattered on a desk,
I can't stop myself from pausing to fix them.
Everything has its place.
Everything has its purpose.
Random keeps me up at night,
Plaguing me with panic attacks,
As I study what could've been fixed had I just not been impulsive,
Random is sinful.
Random is a disease.
But every once in a while,
I wish I could just let go and breathe without planning.
Without the anxiety and second-guessing.
But then I pull back from this compulsion, this instinct.
No more random.
Random only gets you in trouble.
I will not fall victim anymore.