There is a thread
Braided of the past, of environment and heredity, of evolution and civilization
Finer than gossamer, but strong like carbon fiber composite
Some weave with it, intricate life-tapestries in chaotic strange-attractor patterns.
Lovers bind themselves together with it; and when it breaks, they fly apart, tug-of-war with a broken rope.
Some, working diligently over years, manage to fashion a noose; but lacking a rafter to tie it to, slowly choke rather than end with a snap.
Most of us, though, just sort of get tangled up it in.