Things tend to fall into places on its own when you hold back interventions to carefully defy it. Exertion of force upon stagnant words pressure the sentence to distort.
But us humans desire fancy words and grand gestures and elevation of standards and wanting more than what has already coexist with us that we force others to bend and break in the process, going against the current and creating nonsense hyperboles.
Perhaps this would be why I fail to find solace in the idea of fate?
