I hate that all my friends have been busy with WoW, parties [that I'm not invited to] or their significant others enough to not even spare a sentence in my general direction

All in all, my summer has been rather... negative. I've been ignored, made fun of, severely insulted by my parents, had my bloody pants taken away at an airport...
I could go on. But in all honestly, I believe my joining the WBO is the best thing I did this summer. All of you are awesome (:
So now it's late, and I'm lying down on my bed typing into my Craptop, which is sitting on a chair, left to think. Think about various things like things I could've done better in the past, things I might consider doing in the near future, how life will resume once school starts, all these things and more passing though my head and fingers as I write this.
It's rather warm, so the fan is oscillating on it's highest setting, the droning of it's blades being the only thing I can hear other than the soft clicking of the keys. My room is small, about the size of a large walk-in closet. Because of some random urge about 2 years ago, I had the walls painted a melon green-ish color, anything to escape the generic white cream color that stained the hallways, kitchen, washrooms, everything. Outside the door to this room, there's a hallway vanitywith some of my old clothes stuffed inside it, and piles of manga stacked high on top. So you're probably by now wondering what this has to do with anything, am I right? Why bother tell you all of this?
Forgive me for thinking as I type, but, Fiction They say life isn't a fantasy, It's cold, cruel, unforgiving, the "real world". Now you wouldn't be able to tell, but i've gon on and on about fiction and reality and the differences between the two at length and eventually backspaced all the way back to the "real world" because reading through what i had written showed me that I couldn't find effective words to establish the thought I was trying to convey at that time. Every time the thought eluded me, I would start over. In this one post I have done this about three times already. Already my mind grows hazy with fatigue [its 1:06 AM] but I can't leave off life this.
So as a last attempt to pin down what I was trying to say, I'll take something that was inscribed in the design of a t-shirt I own. Some may be familiar with "Ordo Ab Chao" or Order and Chaos. If you think about it, the two play off of each other in a vague manner, just like the words "Short" and "long" play through each other. To call a length of string "short" is meaningless unless we have an idea of what "long" is. The same works in reverse. Something cannot be "long" unless there is something short by comparison. A string can be longer than another, in which case, the short string is necessary to classify the long string as "long"
Moving back to order and chaos, the same thing can apply. But in out world, we don't really accept either. An example is science. We take the chaotic from the natural world and try to give it order. We try to establish reasons for why things happen and give everything a purpose. However, while we as a race strive to give everything its order out of, I don't know, fear of the unknown, perhaps, we've created systems, technology, our own little sense of what should be and why it should be that way. When something has an order to it, a concrete modus operandi, we can replicate it. But the one thing that cannot be given this order, the one thing that humans can never artificially duplicate is true chaos. Chance, a perfect random variable. With an example of computer software, ever random program, be it a number generator or your itunes library on shuffle, has a randomizing algorithm behind it. An algorithm is basically a pattern, which always follows a specified order. We cannot create chaos without it originating from a pattern, nor can we give a definite order to anything we have not created.
So our organized chaos can never come anywhere close to rivalling true, unbiased, uninhibited chance. A chaos whose factors and variables are too vastly numerous to comprehend. Things will always happen that we will never be able to understand.
Now I've gone on for a bit, so sorry for the length of this post, but at any time, random thoughts such as this gallop through my head, and well, this is the random thoughts thread. Funny that i think of the word thread as a metaphor for humanity and its conventional thinking, I'll finish with this last thought below:
As some of us ignorantly live our day to day lives, there are others that know that within this fragile little order we have built lies a chaos, the game of chance, that all of our lives rest upon.
The thing is, how much will we be able to take before all we take for granted is shattered along with our definitions and predictions? How much will it take to break that thread and cast us all into true, unbiased chaos? How much?
Or rather, How little?
Edit: too tired to go back and edit all of that, so i apologise for any grammatical errors.