Non ergodic

There might be appealingness in being irrational, and cruelty in being rational. As the very idea of rationality is based on certain reasons and norms, it might be questionable. I cursed my luck, followed some oracles, designating some actions or a yet-to-be destiny as desirable/good/impermissible, and so on and so forth.

A gambler with desires, I risk being hurt mostly just to subjugate my own curiosity. A barbarian in me seeks wider imaginations — at first living unhistorically, then gradually, in the middle of some ever-changing horizons. However, there’s always probability involved in this seeking process. Playing the cards in life just to see the numbers dance, or to win the pot — no matter the objective of entering the game, it doesn’t affect the outcome but the approach.

The approach…! Yes — winning or losing, the appeal lies in the process of interacting with multiple variables. That’s the excitement of the game. As a player, you gradually learn a few tools that can be relied on, but whether to deploy them or not—that's where I see my true character unfold…

The more I learn, the more contradictions arise. I see myself fighting within — holding the view of the time average perspective and the ensemble average perspective. Mathematically they are different and the worldview represents both a hero and a fool.

I might be holding a warped perspective — believing in the numbers of the ensemble average, but living my life as it is without parallels or an undo button. Believing in the positive ensemble outcomes (sometimes believing in prophecies), but despite the expectation, I might end up with an undesirable reality. After all, I am only an individual among aggregated outcomes of many other actors — a naïve probabilistic thinking I quietly held with a certain degree of madness.

The hero in me understands: on average, in a world juxtaposed with many outcomes at once — in a system with variants and actors — my life as a single trajectory in an ensemble average means nothing, or is insignificant, maybe at best, mediocre. The fool however, almost hopelessly wants to affirm this life — this obscure single trajectory of a girl in this vast cosmos. The fool wants to live a life affirming everything, including the painful mistakes, the destiny chained to the fabric of her dispositions — having the audacity to repeat some mistakes, mockingly laughing off the idea of being “rational,” foolishly letting herself be blinded by the inexhaustible variety of life.