Writings

Writings

Is it possible to explain events in life through mathematics and physics?


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In the mathematical field of dynamical systems an attractor is a set of numerical values toward which a system tends to evolve, for a wide variety of starting conditions of the system.

So I wonder, what are my numerical values normally?

Dynamical systems in the physical world tend to arise from dissipative systems: if it were not for some driving force, the motion would cease. (Dissipation may come from internal frictionthermodynamic losses, or loss of material, among many causes.) The dissipation and the driving force tend to balance, killing off initial transients and settle the system into its typical behavior. The subset of the phase space of the dynamical system corresponding to the typical behavior is the attractor, also known as the attracting section or attractee.

This means I am not the attractor, because the two situations which I have encountered these past two days are not typical behavior for my life, hence I must be an initial transient for drama?

A confusing start to a blogpost but what I’m trying to get at is that I find it interesting when life is seemingly free from drama and then two days in a row I happen to run into situations where people are/have been in danger.

1. Yesterday I got off the subway at Danderyds Sjukhus. 5 people standing around one man who is laying on the floor, shaking, eyes flickering, not responding. I walk up to them. Apparently he fell down on the floor. Another subway stops and a woman gets off and walks towards the crowd saying “Is anyone here a doctor?” “NO!” We all answer. “I am. Let me see how he is doing.” She proceeds with a medical routine, flashlight on his pupils, etc. Then he wakes up. His arm is bleeding. He looks dazed and she asks him to stick his tongue out. Which he does. He seems fine. Then he sits up and the ambulance is on its way.

2. Tonight, in the car, on my way home after running in the forest. A man stands on the verge of the road next to his car which has the warning signals turned on. He is on the phone, ripping his hair. I stop and ask him what has happened. “I crashed into the sign” “How are you?” I asked “Oh no no I’m good, just shocked, shaking”. I got out and helped him call a wrecker because motor-oil was pouring out of the car. He talked to family and friends a little. I made him laugh and tried to make him feel less shaken up. When he seemed better and the wrecker was sure to come, I left.

Hence the start of this blogpost, is it possible to explain events in life through mathematics and physics? What has shifted in my universe? I wonder if one could calculate situations in reverse then eventually one would be able to predict the future? 

Writings

The Habit of Writing / Growth of a Character


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I set a goal for myself this summer – ‘write a story, longer then you’ve ever written before.’

I’ve had an idea which has been luring in the back of my mind for a while and when I decided to put it into words, it simply felt right.

The past year I’ve acquired the habit of writing something ever.damn.day. Whether it’s a diary-page, a small poem, a short-story, has not mattered. What I wanted was for my writing to become habitual. To make the urge to write a constant. It’s easier to write when inspiration flows from within, but I know writing is not easy, and my main goal has been to go beyond the “need for inspiration”. To find a place where I write, without judging myself and constantly reminding me of “it’s better that you write something useless than not writing at all”.

The articles and reportages on authors I’ve read, all state the same one thing when the interviewer has asked what their key to writing is – “sit your ass down and write”. 

What differentiates an author and someone who wants to write a book? – The author actually writes it. 

I have not come especially far – although further than ever – but the success is not within the amount of words, it is in the growth of the storyline and the characters. For the first time in my life I see my main character in front of me. And wow what a feeling. I know how she will react to different situations and what her thoughts are on those happenings.  Thanks to consistency and stubbornness my mind has learned how to put the story-pieces together, and trash the ideas (my darlings, if you so will) which are of no use.

It is an incredible journey I’ve embarked on and I am in ecstasy to see where it will end.

Writings

A stranger’s kiss


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We met outside the party. Time to go home. We spoke to you and your friend a little and then my  sister headed towards our bikes. I saw you on the dance floor earlier on and thought you were darn cute, but that was it. Two hours later you sit on my bicycle’s rack. The journey home would take an hour. I biked slowly and we talked, the way two stranger’s talk. When nothing, other than having a good time matters. When you don’t need to be afraid of showing your true self because we both know it will only be this night and then you’ll fly away to your Danish universe, and I to mine. The bike-ride took longer than expected, because my sister and her companion tended to fall, ever so often, with their bike. Every time they fell down we kept on biking and then came to a stall, and every time you kissed me. First time asking: “Can I kiss you now?”. The 2nd 3d 4th you didn’t ask again.

You begged me to follow you home but you shared room with your friend “but I’ll kick him out!”  and then “Okey, but what if I join you to your house?” “If you want to share bed with my mom, because we sleep in the same bed..” I replied. At that you laughed and in the bright summer night you started talking deeply about your life, the way strangers do, confide in each other, without insecurities about being judged or advised. Solely two wandering stories shared. 

How fine it is to meet a human and spend a couple of hours with it, have a good time and then go back to normal life. Simple as that.

Writings

Getting to know \\ A strangers blend


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Those fragile moments, which seem like little eternities in themselves. When the conversation between the two of you is painstakingly nervous, both struggling to find the words, both longing to find out of the awkwardness, to find the connection you both so desperately need. 

As a bird flaps its’ wings, there it is, suddenly, flared up between you –

Something incommon. 

You smile shyly at each other and now wonder – where do we go from here? 

You both laugh and think about who will make the next move, so for the magic not to disappear. 

A scared trembling foot of one of you walks down the path, into the incommon. A daredevil of sorts. For this is risky, nothing is really at stake because no words in the world can destroy the silent connection the two of you already have, but nonetheless terrifying. 

Suddenly and out of nowhere the connection is locked. You both losen up, take risks, show more and more of yourselves. Hoping, wishing, thinking “please, like me anyway, no matter what I say”.