Theory

Randomness

The human being remains randomness inside a world of calculations.

How can I ever find pure chance
Inside a stream of linked frequencies?
When even in the noise of entropy,
Each point obeys its own degrees.

We have our formulas and maps,
Precise data, line by line.
With logic drawing constants out,
We build a world where all aligns.

Still I keep searching after chance
Among the particles and space.
And every time, the one exception
To our equations wears our face.

The more precise our calculations,
The harder every step becomes.
We've found the laws that shape creation,
But still can't solve the human one.

If everything is known already,
Then what can make the current turn?
It seems the universe is numbers —
While humans never fit the terms.

The chains of logic through our lives
Keep breaking down before our eyes.
And if no number's truly random,
Why does fear still live inside?

Decay within a particle's core
Is called by science random chance.
Could we ourselves be part of why?
Could our impulse share that dance?

Still I keep searching after chance
Among the particles and space.
And once again, the one exception
To our equations wears our face.

The more precise our calculations,
The harder every step becomes.
We've found the laws that shape creation,
But still can't solve the human one.

If everything is known already,
Then what can make the current turn?
It seems the universe is numbers —
While humans never fit the terms.