Survivorship bias

Just as I was about to gain a little bit of traction, something somehow somewhere brews outside of the peripheries that demand a sense of chaotic tendency that no decree of decorum can surcease. It is beyond my ken. Regardless of the outflow of good, nothing overall sticks in the long run. One can only hope that letting go is never the refuge, and why should it be? Solitude when all was just hitting stride is the most disconcerting bother that I cannot fathom why it even persists in the first place. Worlds apart in a lifetime of vagabondry, too disattached from the reality of peaceful idealism. Time tick tick ticks tock to the end of the finish line, often too soon, often diabolically underestimated in its affectations. War never changes, personal or otherwise. War often misunderstood. War for the sake of it. And death, constant death amongst us all around. All around me, literally and figuratively.