Dispatch from the edge of meaning.
Are You Not Entertained?
On pattern recognition, plot twists, and finally stepping off the stage.
Cheers to the Place Where Bumblebee and Maximilian Meet
Last week I wrote about the "hum" of medical uncertainty and how getting a diagnosis finally quieted that noise. And it turns out, when you turn down the volume on the panic, you start to hear other things again. You start to hear yourself.
Here is something most people don’t know about me: my subconscious mind operates like Bumblebee from Transformers. It doesn’t always use words. It stitches together music fragments and famous movie quotes to communicate. It is fast. It is funny.
And honestly? It’s been offline for a while. It’s hard to be witty when you are trying to survive.
But lately, the Bumblebee transmissions are back.
My sharp mind is re-emerging. My system is recognizing patterns in behavior so quickly it feels like I’m watching spoilers in real time. I can predict the outcome before the opening credits have finished rolling.
For example the other day, out of nowhere, my inner Maximilian roared:
“Are you not entertained?”
And right on cue, the Bee Gees shuffled in:
“Staying alive, staying alive…”
I had to laugh.
Because my definition of entertainment has changed.
New movies and series struggle to keep me interested these days. I already see the what, the how, the who, and the when. The plot reveals itself too early.
And so it is in my personal life.
I spend a little time observing someone—or something—and the pattern emerges. Not just the surface behavior, but the deeper, recurring choreography. The loop beneath the loop.
I see it on the personal level. On the relational level.
And once I see it, I cannot unsee it.
“Pattern recognition is not cynicism. It is clarity arriving faster than denial.”
The Sovereignty of the Spoiler
Some of these patterns used to cause confusion. Now, they cause discernment.
I can see my relation to the other.
But more importantly, I can see my relation to myself.
And that clarity enables me to break patterns that have been running since the beginning of this round on Earth.
I don’t fight them anymore.
I simply stop engaging.
I don’t argue with the script.
I don’t try to rewrite the other character. I just step off the stage.
“Once you’ve seen the script, you don’t need to audition for the same role again.”
And with that refusal comes sovereignty. A deep grounding in who I am without performing, without convincing, without losing myself in the storyline.
So when Maximilian shouts again, right as I sever ties with an old pattern:
“Are you not entertained?”
Yes, Maxiboy, I am entertained.
But not by chaos.
Not by repetition.
Not by predictable plot twists.
I am entertained by clarity.
By quiet.
By the moment the spoiler becomes sovereignty.
By the plot twist where I finally choose myself.
And funnily enough, that’s the only plot twist I never saw coming.
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