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Dinosaur
Alien
Cemetery
Flower
Programing
Light
Pattern
Ghost
Universe
Paradise
Dogma
Purgatory
Glitch
Apophenia
Watching the Netflix series The Queen’s Gambit, I found a particular scene that resonated deeply with my way of thinking. As a child growing up in an orphanage, Beth Harmon learns to play chess and discovers that, at least on the chessboard, she has full control.
“It's an entire world of just 64 squares. I feel safe in it. I can control it; I can dominate it. And it's predictable. So, if I get hurt, I only have myself to blame.”
To Harmon, chess is not merely a game. The real world is chaotic and unpredictable, but within the boundaries of the chessboard, everything follows clear rules. It is the only space where order exists amidst disorder.
In the series, Beth Harmon’s perspective is later explained through the concept of Apophenia—the tendency to perceive patterns and connections in random or unrelated information. Humans are instinctively wired to seek order in chaos, a trait that has led to both scientific breakthroughs and irrational beliefs.
People who experience apophenia find patterns in seemingly meaningless phenomena, uncovering connections that others do not see. This intersection of creativity and cognitive instability has often played a crucial role in groundbreaking discoveries. Newton recognized the law of gravity by observing a falling apple. Leonardo da Vinci found inspiration in the shapes of clouds and waves, incorporating them into his art. Carl Jung studied unconscious patterns, developing his concept of the collective unconscious.
Each of these figures had a relentless obsession with discovering hidden structures in the world, creating new systems of understanding. I, too, find great inspiration in their work. Their way of seeing the world has profoundly shaped my own perspective.
I believe that, like The Matrix, the world operates on patterns and hidden structures waiting to be uncovered. I strive to find these rules, searching for order amidst disorder. This is why I construct my own system, incorporating science, mathematics, religion, spirituality, pseudoscience, and mysticism—not necessarily because each element is empirically validated, but because they serve as tools to interpret reality in a way that resonates with me.
The validity of my findings within established academic paradigms is not my primary concern. More than anything, my pursuit of hidden structures is an instinctive attempt to understand and make sense of the world. Just as Beth Harmon found stability in her chessboard, I find comfort in the order I create within my own worldview.
At its core, my desire to construct a worldview stems from a deeper longing—to extend existence beyond death.
Death is commonly understood as the cessation of existence, the end of both past and future for an individual. However, by establishing my own system, I can create a framework where existence continues beyond death.
In this perspective, death is not an absolute break but rather a transition to another form of connection. My system allows me to explore the possibility of reuniting with those who have already left this world.
For instance, in the reality governed by conventional laws of physics, it is impossible to meet my late mother again. But within this structure I build, that meeting becomes conceivable. By discovering patterns in the world and organizing them in my own way, I seek to expand the meaning of existence itself.
Some may dismiss this as an irrational belief, but then again, don’t SF films thrive on such ideas? Didn’t Elon Musk invest heavily in the idea of reaching Mars, driven by nothing more than the sheer desire to make it possible? Verification is important, but for me, this is not merely about proving something—it is an earnest expression of hope.