Fated

Fate, fate is a funny one, you think that she is the one who decides your present and future, but you see, I am here to tell you other whys.

Fate is not with a lowercase, she is in fact with an uppercase, for you see Fate is not an it but a who. Fate is the one who sits by her loom and weaves all the little glowing strings together, they are constantly appearing and disappearing from her loom and she is constantly fixing the little mistakes that happen along the way. But you see, Fate does not think of them as mistakes, for sometimes, sometimes she has to weave two strings together in an ever loving bond as someone met another someone they where meant to be with.

There are many gaps, tares and missing strings in Fates work, some even seem to have died mid weave and now remain only half woven in their place with their glow now gone. But some shine brighter then a thousand stars as Fate weaves them in an unending pattern. When a glow is strong it brings a smile to Fates face as she gazes down upon the fragile things, for when a glow is strong it means that the little strings representing the people are quite happy and glad. A tear will slide down Fate’s face if the string is dull or seems to drop from her fingers to lye only half woven.

There is much debate on what Fate looks like, but you see Fate simply cant be put in to words, she is neither black nor white, her hair cannot be described as any simple color, for it seems to be a color that is yet to be discovered, her eyes are an ever changing pattern of so many colors it would take much to long to write. The strings Fate weaves, much like Fate herself cannot be described. They shine and dull and fall from her fingers as others seem to appear, many are colors you cannot describe while others are simply to bright to look at.

When you make a decision it changes your fate and she changes her pattern accordingly. Your fate is so confusing and twisted that Fate herself can rarely foresee what turn it takes. So she simply sits there, right by her loom, her fingers weaving in and out of the many strings, dropping some and weaving new, always changing, ever flowing, letting the little people make their fate as she lets her fingers dart in and out in an ever changing pattern.

Fate’s work is by no means beautiful, as there are many gaps, holes and missing strings, but somehow you cant help but love and admire how all the strings seem to flow together as a little one meets another. You change your fate and Fate changes her pattern accordingly. Fate has always been there, weaving in and out, sometimes she cries and other times she smiles, but one thing always remains the same, her hands darting in and out, weaving the glowing strings together as they slowly fall into a long complicated web of glowing rope.

Fate sits by her loom, dropping strings and weaving more as the strings change shape and pattern, always changing ever flowing. You change your fate, and Fate changes her pattern…