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The Isochronism

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About The Isochronism

  • Birthday December 11

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  • Member Title
    Love is the difference between what's perfect and what's real
  • Pronouns
    he/him
  • Location
    My parents' basement
  • Interests
    Reading, Writing, Speaking, Board Games, Chess, Card Magic, Tying Ties, etc.

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  1. Above, stars like twinkling candles shine, defiant, shine the candles, twinkling like stars above.
  2. For all you faithful followers who read the things I write, I'd love for you to check out my long random thing on The Way of Kings. 

    How many of you are rereading SA before #5 comes out this december?

     

    1. Edema Rue

      Edema Rue

      I…probably will.

      I should.

      I shall.

  3. "How is it you can you always smile?" I've been to many Q&A-type events that Brandon Sanderson has answered questions at, and after 3 years of going to Dragonsteel I think it's interesting that I've heard this same question (or some variation of it) every year. "How do you write (depression/anxiety/mental illness) so well?" I've honestly wondered this many times too. Sanderson's answers vary, from talking about the importance of talking to people, to how a character needs to remain active, but as a writer myself I always hoped there was more of a secret to doing such a good job. Something I could emulate. But unfortunately there's no substitute for hard work. Although I think the works of Sanderson provide their own answer to that question, and that answer has less to do with Sanderson as a writer and more to do with all of us as humans. For those of you who aren't familiar with my essays I'm sure this post will be a little weird, because I don't often see in depth literary analyses on this forum, especially on the Stormlight Archive threads. Many of you who hang out on these threads hardly ever post on any of the other threads, so you might not know me at all. These threads are dedicated more to theories and arguments. However, as much as I like being original I'm not the first one to post this type of literary analysis. I found a thread made by @Spinner16 (who's been inactive for a few years unfortunately) titled "Themes in the Stormlight Archive" and I loved reading through that. (Go check it out and give them some rep if you're interested.) The point he made was the same conclusion I and many other readers have come to. The main theme (Or, to prevent argument, A main theme) of The Way of Kings is about the worth of a soul. More specifically, "The worth of a soul is priceless." I've thought about that theme a lot, but like any well-developed theme there are many facets of it to be explored. That idea of worth is so perfectly encapsulated in the prologue, which has my second favorite chapter title in the whole book, and there are lots of good ones. (Ask me sometime and I'll give you a list.) "Of Most Worth." In that incredibly creepy epilogue, Hoid asks a question that matters a lot to this book. What do men value the most? Hoid gives a variety of answers, before proposing the conclusion that humans most value novelty. Ideas which are new. Art that is new. but while Hoid quickly is able to tell us what we value most, he dodges the much more important question. What is of most worth? The difference between those two questions is at once both tiny and as vast as the world itself. And so that bigger question is left up to us. What is the worth of a soul? What is the worth of a piece of art? What is the worth of a story? Is the imitation of a piece of art intrinsically less valuable just because it's an imitation? And lately a question I've been asking, "what is the worth of a truth?" A theory I've had in the past is that a single truth is priceless, while a lie is completely valueless. That's a neat way of looking at things. Neat, oversimplified, and definitely too extreme. I'm sure after reading a blanket statement like that you can immediately see the problems. "Can the truth about what I had for breakfast this morning really be priceless?" I think it's not completely untrue though, even if it is a little extreme. Some truths really are priceless. Some people might cite religious truths, and I also cite personal ones. Finding out my best friend isn't as happy as he pretends to be. Finding out my coworker is a recovering drug addict, who turned his life around to be worthy to marry the girl he loves. Finding out that I am loved. Some truths are priceless, and when you find one it's easy to believe the first part of the statement. So what if it's the second part of the statement that's untrue. Are there cases where a lie is valuable? Stories come to mind. There are lots of jokes about authors and politicians both being professionally employed liars, and it's definitely worth considering what actually counts as a lie. Is a fictional story a lie? I think it's fair to assume most people wouldn't think so, but that begs a lot of questions about where to draw the line, and those aren't questions I want to get into in this essay. But before I tell you why this is relevant, I think we should return to the quote that I began this essay with. A question Kaladin asks his brother, Tien. How is it that you can always smile? It's dreadful outside, your master treats you like crem, and your family is slowly being strangled by the city lord. And yet you smile. How, Tien? What is the worth of something as simple as a smile? It's a question I can answer easily. On a rough day when everything feels heavy, the beautiful smile of someone I love can mean the world. To me? A smile is priceless. How can something so simple be so valuable? Maybe because I know how much strength it takes to smile. I have been smiling for years, because that's what people expect. I love what people see, I love pretending to be happy. But at the same time... I hate that my smile is fake. I hate that it looks so real, I hate that I can look in the bathroom mirror after five minutes of crying, and even I can't detect a crack in that perfect smile. No wonder nobody can see me. But sometimes... I'm really tired of smiling. My strength runs out and I ask myself, "How is it that you always smile? Your friend is dead, you've been abandoned again and again, and your family barely even cares that you exist. And yet you smile." I think Kaladin knew the answer to his own question as well as I know the answer to mine. How do you smile, Tien? And why is it that you make me want to smile too? Tien's smile —To Kaladin— is priceless. Because it gives him the strength to smile too. With Tien's death, Kaladin decides he's going to smile too. Not because it's easy, but because there's people who need that smile. "Kaladin smiled at him. A forced smile. Sometimes that was all one could offer." Kaladin gives Bridge Four the gift of smiles, of laughter. But isn't it all a lie? In chapter 30 Kaladin even acknowledges this. "He gave Skar an encouraging smile. A lie. But an important one." I wonder if Tien's smile was always real. He certainly doesn't smile forever. In the end, after being recruited to the military, his strength finally fails. His smile finally wavers. Kaladin finds it physically painful to see that smile falter. "Tien should smile. That was who he was." But maybe Tien's sacrifice was making that smile look easy, so that other people could smile with him. Everybody is more than a smile. But we see a similar reaction when Kaladin first meets Lopen. "This man obviously didn't understand what awaited him as a bridgeman. No person would smile if they understood that." Kaladin doesn't believe that anyone could smile, because he can't. But sometimes even people who are so deeply sad can find the strength to smile. And sometimes we take it for granted. Most days my smile is fake. Sometimes I feel guilty for showing people something that isn't real. But nobody should ever feel guilty for trying to lift others up. A fake smile meant only to hide or deceive might be valueless, but a smile meant to inspire? It may be a lie, but it's an important one. It takes strength to cry too, and I don't devalue displays of real emotion, but I do want to explain why I keep smiling. Because I know when someone else smiles it makes it easier for me. And I believe my smiles have the same effect. How does Brandon Sanderson do such a great job writing people? Whether it's mental illness, depression, grief, or just emotion at all, Sanderson can convey it beautifully. And he can do it because writing is his fake smile. The stories may not be real, but he writes them to inspire others. He writes them to give people permission to feel those real emotions. Depression. Love. Grief. Fear. He shows those for what they are, how they can be terrible and how they can be beautiful. Because he wants us to be able to feel human without being ashamed of it. You want to know what else is amazing? Those fake smiles don't stay fake forever. Kaladin discovers this in chapter 57. "He smiled. Odd that he could still do that." I figured it out too. And just like the smiles, good writing is more than a valuable lie. In us, eventually writing becomes real. It inspires us and changes us. Maybe that's why I wanted to write this essay in the first place. I want to plead with all of you to keep smiling. Even if it feels fake. Even if it feels forced. Even if you don't see who it's changing. I love your smiles. I can sometimes tell you're smiling even though I might never see any of you in real life. And that is worth more than you know. I know that was long, I hope you'll forgive me for not having any creative theories or hot takes, and if you have any thoughts feel free to share them. On this thread I'll just briefly note that I'm not looking for criticism or argument, these words are just my opinions, and they're very precious to me. Thank you for taking the time to read the ramblings of a smiling author, I love you all.
  4. Something needs to change.

    Why are so many teenage boys absolute idiots? It frustrates me so much, because I feel like I've spent years advocating for men, saying the idiots are in the minority, and society should give men a little more benefit of the doubt. I still think there's not a lot that's more hurtful to anyone than walking up to them and telling them their life is easy. I've had those words said to me over and over again. 

    You're a guy, you have no idea what it even means to have a hard life.

    That's not true. I know that. But people who don't know me still insist I have no pain tolerance, and no understanding. 

    But then... Then I see a bunch of teenage idiots hurt the girl I love, and I start to think about how many of my friends would have done something to stop it, if in that group of teenagers who were too arrogant to even realize how possessive and awful they were being. Maybe one or two of my friends would have stopped it. But guys are really good at working as a group. It's really hard to be the odd one out. And so because of how the world works, there are so many girls that suffer because of guys, and that makes me so angry. Something needs to change.

    I think groups of people need to hold themselves accountable, because there's so much loss of trust between groups. And so I feel like I need to hold other guys accountable, and say again: Something needs to change. I don't know what that looks like, I'm sure when I'm less tired and have more time I'll write something more cohesive, but for now I just want to rant a little. And for you guys, my advice is simple. There's a lot I could say, like always assume a girl doesn't want to touch you unless she says otherwise instead of assuming a girl does want to touch you until she says otherwise, and other rules like that, but I think the deep-rooted problem comes from arrogance, and failure to see who we all really are. That goes for a lot of women too, but I don't know that it's my place to get into that right now. Somehow, you have to change your mindset so that women are people with stories, emotions, and agency. They are not achievements to collect. Your responsibility to be careful is directly tied to your ability to cause harm. That gives all of us a great deal of responsibility, which is why I felt like I needed to write this. I've made mistakes too, and right now I'm holding myself accountable. Let's change together.

  5. Brand is Iridium Point Germany (according to the tip?) and because pen and ink were both gifts I'm not positive of brand otherwise. The cartridge loads by breaking the end of it by stabbing it on to the end of a thingy. Ugh, I'm too new to any of this to understand the terminology. Ink stops in the middle of a word, pretty randomly throughout my writing. Hopefully that's enough information?
  6. Finally got a fountain pen (On Easter Sunday a few months ago) so now I'm here to join y'all. I freaking love these pens. My issue is sometimes they stop writing for a minute, like the ink got clogged or something. Is this normal? Never thought I'd need a fancy pen until I got one, I absolutely love it.
  7. On that subject... Fountain Pens. Writing letters while rain hits my window. Sealing wax. My custom wax stamp.
  8. Hey everybody. The birds are chirping, and the airplanes are also chirping, and if that's not a sign of the apocalypse I don't know what is! That's right, for the first time in at least 6 months, it's the moment you've all been waiting for. Today is very special, because I'm going to answer a total of 3 questions. The first is quite simple. No. I don't like to play ping pong. Ping pong is not a child's game, you simpleton! It's not something to be played! It's a competitive sport. (1) I compete at ping pong. And I win. Usually. (2) On to the second question. It's time for some hard core math. First lets list some possible world-ending disasters. To keep it simple, we'll only list five of the most deadly. (3) 1. Asteroids 2. Solar Flares 3. Very Big Volcano 4. Time Travelers 5. Spontaneous Combustion Now we have to calculate the most probable time for each of them to end the world, by setting time [T] to zero [0] and then we'll take the average of all five to figure out how many years until we have to be worried. Let's begin. According to BBC a large asteroid will only hit earth once about every 100 million years. (4) I encourage you to follow the citation link and check their math, but for now we'll assume they're correct. The last world destroying asteroid was the one that killed the dinosaurs, which hit about 66 million years ago. (5) That means for #1, T = ~34,000,000 years Now, some silly scientists believe there IS no probability of a solar flare destroying earth, (6) but I feel like they're just saying that. I saw the northern lights a few nights ago, that crap is crazy. And if it's crazy now, it'll only get crazier. The largest recorded solar flare was in 1972 (6) and I'd bet there was a good chance of that destroying us even, and that was 52 years ago (7) time [T] for #2 equals -52 A very big volcano may also destroy the earth, but scientists seem to agree that for the time being that's unlikely. The chances of that are about 1 in 730,000. So statistically it will take 730,000 more days, or 1995 years give or take. So time for number 3 equals 1995. (9) Time travelers are equally likely to destroy us every day through all time, so the negatives and positives cancel out to create T=0 Spontaneous combustion is most likely to destroy the earth sometime this year, (10) so for that we'll say T = 1 Okay so now we have T(1) = ~34,000,000 T(2) = -52 T(3) = 1,995 T(4) = 0 T(5) = 1 So now we do [T(1)+T(2)+T(3)+T(4)+T(5)]/5 That gives us probably about 6800388.8 years to live. (11) I wish I had better news. Do you guys want some real life advice for your wisdom? Maybe I'll give you some serious advice after all that. I'll put it in a spoiler tag though, so you know you've been warned. Citations: Thanks you for reading, but just know I'm expecting cheers of joy when y'all see I posted this.
  9. Numberless...

    Like stars in the sky

    The lights of the city shine

    A thousand stories I'll never know

    There are too many for human minds to ever see

    I'm alone.

     

    Lights flash red

    Like scars on my arm

    Like panic inside my chest

    It's distinct against white city lights

    A story I don't know, I cry anyway.

    Ambulance.

     

    True stories

    Forever we hide

    Smiles we fake, tears we smother

    When will we see each other clearly?

    Instead of lights we see a twink'ling city

    and never think about the ones whose stories are lost.

    My story. 

  10. Dear... Hypothetical.

    I wish I still cared, about... well anything. I used to love this forum, although maybe it was just my need for validation from people who don't know me well enough to reject me. 

    I used to love writing, books, speeches, essays... letters. And now I can barely even type. 

    I broke 5 in my last mile race, which just a year ago would have made me so happy, and now I barely care. 

    Now there's only one thing I care about, but eventually I know I'll lose her too. 

    If I was sad, or stressed, I'd be okay, because I would care. I know how that feels. But this apathy is terrifying.

     

    I've wanted to ask the few followers who still read these, what's the point? What's the point of these status updates, of these conversations, of these games and five-paragraph theories. What's the point of having friends here? We all spend our nights telling ourselves stories about each other, who the others might be in relation to us. But the truth is, we all live in our own universe. Completely isolated. All this beauty might as well be fake, right? Even this status update looks show-offy on a page, because these words are meant to be spoken. And not to just anyone, but to someone who loves me, cares about me, or even just knows me. So why am I writing to you? Dear, Hypothetical reader? Because it's easy. It's easy to complain to one or two people I'll never meet. It's easier to make you feel my burden, because nobody 'real' deserves to carry it. Neither do you, really. But you won't. Because I'm one name, one profile, and one status update among thousands.

    I've been gone for weeks, and I come back to see I got four reputation points. And... that made me way happier than it should have. The happiness immediately turned into guilt when I realized how much weight I put in that online number, that should be meaningless. I'm addicted to the feeling that someone cares. And so I become more preformative, I start saying things to get reputation instead of saying them to make this space happier. It's all so fake. You're all so hypothetical. 

    Even this. I want those replies, those points, that feeling that someone is watching. But it'll never be enough. So please, just this once, don't love this update. I need this to be for something more than reputation, and that's the only way to prove this letter is different. 

    What's the point? I don't deserve to be remembered, but I just want to stop feeling alone. I turn here to this fictional, preformative profile, because reality isn't enough for me. What's the point of staying in either reality? We're all alone. And I don't deserve to be here. You don't want to know... me. 

    Thank you for making me feel real.

    1. ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ

      ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ

      Before I type up my second essay of this week, can I ask what it means to be “real” to you?

    2. Edema Rue

      Edema Rue

      I think…being addicted to being cared about is like being addicted to eating. Or sleeping. Too much of it will certainly hurt, but you need it to survive. Maybe in a different way, but it is human to need to be loved. 

      And…I can’t promise answers, or explain away the loneliness, but I think we turn here because it’s easier. It’s easier to see a like and tell ourselves it means we matter. It’s easier to interact without obligation. It’s easier than in the real world. 

      And while I don’t know much else, I do know that no matter what else happens with ‘real’ people or ‘hypothetical’ people or anything at all, there is a God who loves you. Who won’t forget you. Who cares for you and can help you care, if you turn to Him. I know religion is laughable to a lot of people, but…I believe it. And it helps.

    3. Slowswift

      Slowswift

      Well, that's terrifyingly relatable. 

  11. In the rain, I don't walk alone

    It matters not if I'm far from home

    Because I can't see

    and do not know

    In the greyness of the storm.

     

    In the mist

    or in the fog

    the whole world fades

    and I just jog.

     

    When rain clouds smother

    what I can see

    then I'm not alone, 

    because next to me

    Are a hundred spirits,

    a hundred eyes

    Guiding me

    watching me

    through the pines.

     

    When the sun shines bright I cannot hide

    I can be seen by passers by

     

    I can be seen

    but not quite seen...

    but they can tell I walk alone.

     

    But it's not just them, it's me who sees

    The vacant path, through empty trees.

    know the path, and can't get lost

    and I know I can't continue this walk.

     

    Because when the fog fades,

    and the illusion is gone

    it's just me who walks

    -so lonely- along.

     

    1. Show previous comments  2 more
    2. Edema Rue

      Edema Rue

      :wub:

      Well…I felt it a lot, and it was very well written. You’ve got talent, dude <333

    3. Silver Phantom
    4. Just-A-Stick

      Just-A-Stick

      Wow...

      I absolutely love this!!

      Thank you for sharing!!

  12. There are good places and bad places to go for help when you need emotional support. 

    You're not wrong for feeling hurt, or broken, or useless, or lonely, or like a burden, but don't take my word for it. The internet is not where you should go for support because you won't leave feeling fulfilled like you would after talking to real people. 

    Go talk to someone, like I did. It's worth it so you can feel the way I do right now. Lifted, light, meaningful, and confident.

    It's worth it.

  13. Is it crazy how saying sentences backwards creates backwards sentences saying how crazy it is?
  14. Happy birthday :D

    1. The Isochronism

      The Isochronism

      Thanks Robin, you're the best!

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