Uncertainty

I struggle with uncertainty.  I rage war on randomness.  I fight for order and proper patterns.  I loath chaos.  My obsession with systematic arrangement is futile and diversionary.  It is so paradoxical, because what I really want is to reach into the emptiness and make it malleable.  I want to create a reality which contains a happy, healthy, physically formed Katie.  The truth is; albeit, I battle with uncertainty; it is not my enemy. It is certainty that I am furious with; certainty that burns my throat and stings my eyes and pierces my heart.  It is the certainty; that one cold unchangeable fact that Katie no longer has a body; that I hate.  If that could only become a mutable uncertainty that I could change, then I would happy with all the other uncertainties in my life.  Revel in them.  Rejoice that life is ever changing.  But no, alas, I do not have that choice.  I am angry at my choice-less world.  Life is uncertain.  Death is the only real certainty.  There is no solace in certainty.