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Nothing is sudden. Nothing is random. Nothing is just one color. Red isn't just red. Wavelengths that create, our eyes that can only take so much, our brains to our eyes, our brains that wouldn't work without our body, our body wouldn't work without our brains, there are layers to everything and layers within everything. Nothing is this or that, right or wrong there will always be exceptions and arguments. Reasons to not, reasons to do.
The world isn't a perfect sphere, nothing is perfect. That makes 'nothing' just, so, perfect. Because there isn't anything to exist to be wrong, but then what is right since nothing is just this or that? And if 'nothing' is cableable in being in the mixes of this and that, wouldn't that make 'nothing' something? Going back to my point, nothing is perfect, and if nothing were something, 'nothing' is imperfect.
As I said, there is no right or left, wrong or right, this or that. There is always an alternate right in the center. If you can see it or not, it's there. People don't die just because. Whether they were happy and stable one day and gone the next, the series led up to that moment, maybe not in their own lives but maybe in the person, or thing, that killed them. That took them away.
It was meant to happen. Of course it's easy to say when it's not your life, or one that you love but there is a rhyme and reason. Rhyme to reason, reason to rhyme. Interpretations are opinions, there is no such thing as one way. All for the guarantee of death. No matter what one believes in after death, it will always be something. Believing in something after death will always be something. Believing in nothing after death is still something.
One might argue this is what makes life so beautiful, so worth living. But I argue it makes everything scary, why is it worth living? But maybe all my thinking is just a way to excuse my sin. Because deep down I know something about life is worth living but I still just can't seem to find it.