Patterns and Rhythms

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There’s patterns everywhere,  in everything, I’m sure but I don’t actively seek them….they seem to come to me. Literature is full of patterns. Life is full of patterns. That’s how I usually write my essays – to find a pattern and then find meaning and symbolism within it.

I’m somehow comforted by patterns – to know that they exist, repeating themselves over and over. It gives predictability to unpredictability, it’s rhythm smoothing.

I detest the chaotic.  I don’t like not knowing about what is happening next. I don’t like not having the option of plotting the day, week or even month.  I don’t like randomness, even though I sort of think randomly (or maybe that’s just me and bizarre connections to things).

It’s true that I’m messy. But when someone tidies it up, it disorientates me, as if it disrupted a pattern that even I don’t really know ever existed. Some sort of pattern that only my intuition knows. That is not to say I find things easily – I don’t really, but I sure don’t with people move my stuff!

Despite my affinity with patterns, I hate math and cannot see the patterns in it. Apparently they’re there – people say there are. But I can’t see it or quantify it. I can’t make sense of the numbers in relation to the figures. They dissipate, empty of their supposed qualities.

I like rhythm, as a form of pattern. I do listen to music (mostly pretty relaxing stuff) contrary to popular belief. But I really like physical rhythms. It’s steady motion calms me. I especially like the motion of rhythm, leaning into the steady vibrating feel of the vehicle (buses, trains, cars). I learnt as a child to ignore my head banging into window as I slept on the school bus and now I find it comforting to feel the motion and the bumps. And somehow in the similar veins of movement, some things can hurt and feel good at the same time.

That is probably why I like riding horses too. I was never really the one to jump – the steady rhythm intercepted with the excitement of the horse, my inability to slow down (and half halt) said horse and the awkward small lurch through the air (in which I half dump my reins…oops).  It’s been a long time since I’ve jumped and I never really went that far in jumping – so I can’t say my recollection is correct. I might jump again with the right horse (after all, I did like jumping the infamously fat and lazy Dory) and if I can get into riding more (I only ride weekly) but I don’t think it’ll ever be my main focus. I like flatwork. Walk (okay, so we don’t actually work a lot in walk but it’s still good). Trot. Canter.  There is less unknown (of course with horses there is always an element of the unknown like invisible aliens in the ring corner that exist in a dimension only seen by your horse). There is less threat of being disconnected, although that does not mean the horse cannot pummel you through the air. At any rate, I never got far enough in jumping to really make an informed comment.

But it’s the rhythm that draws me. The steady beat of each gait (well, if you’re doing it right). Of the breath. Of everyone’s heartbeat, drumming the primeval drum. Every step pulsating, the rhythm steady, yet variable.  And then if  the world is still too empty, I can stop, lean down and let me arms embrace a sturdy neck (I ride English and this is also easy to do bareback – probably less comfy western though…).

The funniest thing about patterns though is that I suck at remembering them short term and I don’t necessarily remember all their details in my head when I try to.  Like I said, I don’t go actively looking for them. They come to me. Sometimes I’ll be thinking and then I think of the pattern of something in the literature and decide to use that for my essay. Sometimes I’ll just be deep and thought and then suddenly, I’ll notice patterns – of ideas, thoughts, visuals. When I close my eyes, it’s what I literally see, that is if I’m not thinking about something else…

Whatever the case. whether I’m looking for it or not – patterns and rhythms are everywhere.  Including how I’m unpopular I am. Hmmphh. (Well, people either like me or they really hate me or I simply don’t exist with the later being the most common and the first point being very, very, very rare…).

We need more unpopular, loner characters who are also good at nothing. I’m tired of characters having best close friends or loners finding love or being really, really, really good at something they love. But that’s another rant for another time.

On the Edge of the Unknown

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I couldn’t find an appropriate photo for this post (and don’t have enough inspiration to take one at the moment).

But yeah, I may have been more annoying than usual. I will admit that.

Lately, I’ve been edgy, impatient, more anxious then usual. I have a desire for instantaneous answers. As if I’m trying to secure some sort of certainty, trying desperately to tie peices of what I know to the trees with the prospecting hurricane of change.

This is me on the edge of the unknown. Filled with uncertainty, it feels like the end, even though people may assure me it’s a new beginning (although they actually haven’t thus far). I’m not sure. I don’t like change and someone has unleashed a hurricane on me. Oh I knew it was coming but didn’t think it’ll come this fast. I’m not longer quite sure who I am or what I’m good at or what I want. Everything feels impossible and so far away. As for me, I feel incapable and unwanted.

I feel so out of touch with everything and everyone. Most of my family seem to be on a planet far from my own. They don’t understand me or what I do or what I want to do. I feel so disconnected to them yet reliant. It’s not a good combo. I don’t really have friends. I have made zero friends in high school (maybe some loose acquaintances through) and I have certainly made zero friends in post secondary. While people talk about  the great social lives of high school and college/university, it can also be extremely isolating for someone with little to no social skills. I had more of a social life in elementary school.  By high school, my social life had died.  Now, I’m used to it being dead as I can’t imagine it any other way. If it’s activities where you make friends – well, I failed at that too (although I guess I made some loose acquaintances). Keep in mind that my loose acquaintance is very, very, very loose. It’s someone that I’ll know and the person will know me and I may exchange a few words (possibly a conversation but not required) but that it is. It is very, very, very loose, superficial but it’s at least a step up from pure alienation (I don’t know you and you don’t know me and we’ll all just ignore each other) which pretty much sums up my undergrad career.

I’m not sure about the horse thing, having attempting a sport that is way out of my league and class although maybe I just need to get a different side of it. It’s certainly not about the ribbons (I way prefer to ride more than show right now). There has been many disappointments in the realm, but I still love the feel of the horse underneath me (not on top, though I’ve been there too – avoid if possible) and the reaction when I find the “funny button” like a scratchy spot on the wither or wiggle of the muzzle (I’m not describing that well but it was so much fun) and the furry muzzles under my fingers (and on my face…yes, some bite…yes I generally know when they are going to bite). I’ve mostly given up big fantasies of showing, at least so I’ve gotten a little closer to earth in that way. I know I’ll never be an amazing rider or horse whisperer and my delusions of doing seem so mind-bogglingly naive .

I’m not naive anymore. I don’t want dreams to come crashing down again  or the flicker to gently peter out to the point that I shouldn’t care anymore (it doesn’t mean I don’t though). I had enough of that. The world is now a cynic’s world. The idealism of the future  – not just for me but the world as well has now faded.

But I don’t know how much longer it would be before everything will begin to unravel. When it would be clear that some things are dreams for another lifetime just like my family have hinted.  When everything falls apart, collapsing into a rubble of unfulfillable dreams.

Everything is spinning around, each piece of the wheel is threatening to break.

I’m at the edge of the unknown and I want to scream and cry and disappear (perhaps a wormhole will come…). There is too much happening. I want answers. I want a inkling of the known. I am lost and confused. I am also freaking out.

I don’t know where I am. I am wandering the deserted, dead landscape alone. I watch childhood innocence and idealistic dreams begin to smoke, desperately hoping it won’t alight. But the world is dark, cold. Everything is on the horizon. This is the event horizon. There is no going back. The days childhood have long past, even though I still essentially live like a teenager (that doesn’t mean I want to though but I don’t know any other way  and I can’t deal with it now with so many other unknown factors at the moment). But the bubble between youth and adulthood is about to be broken.

Somebody, please find me and take me back to the known. Or at least take me by the hand through the unknown.

I am terrified. (And edgy, anxious and about to freak out sooner than usual).

The Void

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The void is overbearing, looming ahead of me. I don’t know what to do. It is ever-approaching and I feel utterly unprepared for what is to come ahead. Whatever it is.

I started my last semester this week. It’s a mixture of relief – the ending of the draining, droning rhythm of school. You go to lecture. You read. You listen. You study. You write. Then you wonder about your grade.  And of course, leaping from one panicked deadline to another. But all and all, it’s familiar.  That fact, for the moment is the most important. Stagnancy is easy to come by because it’s hidden under the guise of familiarity.

But I don’t know what’s going to happen now. Everything I knew, is poised to fall apart, unravel from the frayed ends. I’m not completely sure what’s going to happen with the horse thing which is unrelated, but still falls within the same time period. The period of upheaval  disorientation and panic. Everything wants to unravel, sinking deep into the void of the unknown.

Graduating university is supposed to be good. It’s supposed to be the start of freedom. Somehow, you’re supposed to come out with friends from the education process but I have never been able to do that. Not even close. It’s supposed to be a time when you’re reaching your next step, going onto bigger and better things.

But it’s not. I feel trapped, desperately banging on the walls of the life, the world that I don’t feel that I belong. While I was always alone, now I’m really alone, with no one able to offer me any sort of knowledge of the future. I don’t have friends to chat with. I don’t know anyone who understands. No one seems to want to work with me. I seem to have direction, but no way to get there. Increasingly, I’m not sure if I’ll ever get there.

How do you know if you’re hovering or simply falling at a steady rate but never hitting the ground? How do you know you’re riding the currents or near the cusp of drowning? How do you if this is the end or the beginning? How do you know where you’re headed if all you can see is absolutely nothing?

I don’t know what’s in the void, for the good or bad. But all I know that’s incredibly dark here. And there’s no one but me. Nothing to show me the way and little to cling to.

I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what to do in a place made for a species that I do not feel quite truly part of.

And I am terrified.

Some days, the world is so far away

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There are some days that I feel that I can do everything. Some days, that the world is just at my finger tips, waiting for me. Some days, I feel that I am good at something or things.

Some days I feel talented, as if I had a future. Some days I feel like all my dreams will come true – horse and all.

But other days, most days this is not the case. Some days, the world is so far away. Utterly unreachable, as I crawl along the depths, clinging to things – leech-like. Some days I feel like I’m good at nothing and the world with people is more than I could bare or function.

Dreamer? Or Realist?

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As a child, I always thought myself to be the dreamer. Never living in this world, not really. Always imagining, creating stories. You think of a lot of things when you spend time alone. For the most part that’s what I did, although I had a few friends.

It’s been a long time since I was a child. It’s been a long time since I had close friends. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to look through the world with an idealistic lens.

But now I think myself more as a realist. A cynical realist. A fearful realist. One that is afraid to soar too close to the sun, in fear of getting burnt again.

Leaning into the Void

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This is it.

I’m heading towards the end of my academic career. (I don’t really have  the grades for grad school and if I did do it, it’ll probably something not so practical…like creative writing). But I don’t know what’s at the end.

I’m heading towards the void.
I’m leaning into the void.
I’m falling into the void.

When I Grow Up, I Want to Be a Hermit!

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Or at least that’s what I thought when I first discovered the word “hermit” as a child.

That was before I discovered the wonders of the internet and email.

Now I don’t know. I still live a very isolated life but it isn’t like I don’t like lengthy conversations about whatever is interesting because I do.  But I hate the little things – I hate introductions, I hate greetings, I hate manners and I really hate fake politeness.  I can tell when you are faking it. Please stop – it’s driving me insane.

In elementary school I never really had any “normal” friends within my peer group and outside my “special” class. In high school, I never made any new friends period.

I’ve haven’t made a friend since I was in grade 5 or so. I haven’t had a close friend since maybe early high school (grade 9 or 10). I do occasionally see a friend from my elementary school days, but I really feel that we have drifted far apart since.

I’m not even sure what friends are anymore and I laugh when people assume I have friends (plural). It seems like a ludicrous idea to me now. It’s even funnier if they think I have friends within my peer group. I know people often take friends for granted, but I’m so isolated from even the notion of “friends” that I’m not even sure what they are anymore. Most of the things I know about friends is from fiction. Likewise, I hate the message of “friendship is the best thing” yadda yadda yadda. It’s not. I don’t have friends so shut up about that.

I still joke about being a hermit – maybe in some shack in the middle of the woods with my pony. But I probably won’t be a hermit.

I’m just not quite sure what I would be…