Jumping The Asymptote

Sitting at a table in some nondescript place. The only thing I knew about it was I wasn’t home. There is a ceiling over my head, but I could be inside a closed room, or outside under a gazebo. It really didn’t matter. All that mattered right then, was I am sitting at a table.

I had an open diary under my left hand, with numerous handwritten entries augmented by notes of blue or red penciling. I had been distracted from the task at hand, assigning values to these entries and plotting them on the graph paper in front of me. The graph paper was standard quadrille, and was unremarkable in size or texture. The data points had been penciled in with normal graphite, and the calculator off to my right hand had been used to find a “Best Fit” plot from the values I had identified.

There were numerable vertical asymptotes on the graph, where the line would plunge downward off the scale, only to descend from the top of the paper. After I verified the graph was drawn correctly, I placed all the graph papers side by side, only to recognize the major component of the function to be the cotangent. All else about the very complicated function were merely adjusting a basic cotangent plot. Having found a predictable pattern, I plotted the function for a few years ahead of “now” and saw the graph predicting significant life changes, some good, some bad. Each life change occurred when the plotted function encountered a vertical asymptote. As if signifying how disruptive the changes had been, it forced a new line to be drawn after each break.

Now seeing the when, I started computing the inverse cotangent (arc-cotangent) in the hopes of determining what key factors needed to be changed to alter the predicted graph. I also applied the same methodology to past events as depicted in the graph, to see if the computations would agree with what I already know to be fact. When the three test cases produced results consistent with the truth of what happened, I turned my attention fully onto the predicted changes.

Humming contentedly to myself, I feel a man approaching my table. Quietly, I close my diary and cover it with some papers. But I leave the work itself out in the open as I am continuing computing and plotting. Out of the corner of my eye, I study him as he walks directly to me. At first, he is happy to see me studying and working on a project. But once he comes up next to me, and looks over my shoulder, he becomes very irate and verbally abusive.

“Are you shitting me? Seriously? You’re trying to predict the future with math? As if the events in our lives can be summoned with the right length of hypotenuse.” He continued heaping derision on me, but I mostly ignored him. I was close to isolating the cause of the vertical asymptotes, the recursive function that when allowed to proceed without intervention, would take my life in unprepared directions.

But something about the graph wasn’t right. My chosen scale was all wrong. Still ignoring the ranting man, as he went on to inform myself and any within earshot of the futility of trying to determine the path our life will take, I looked over the function limits and found an overlooked detail. The last of his refrain that registered with me was, “Life is unpredictable! Past results do not guarantee future results! Just deal with it as it happens!”. As I looked over the newly uncovered detail, the amount of attention I gave the man decreased until he became part of the background noise.

Applying the detail would make the function, no longer a function, as there would no longer be one value of “x” for each computed value of “y”. The implication of the function, is there is not one single life being lived, but a multitude of lives all living superimposed on each other. The vertical asymptotes were not when my life made a drastic change, but when this life jumped from one alternative to another. Like jumping tracks. Except my consciousness only perceived one life-track at a time, and so, unexpected shifting would take my consciousness by surprise. It was now possible to not only predict when this shifting occurred, but with enough study and practice, I could control which direction it would take.

The way this new insight was explained in the graph? The x-axis no longer had a y-value of 0. It now had a value of 0 AND 2. 0=2.

As the understanding of what I had discovered sank further into my mind, I realized the area had become very, very quiet. I looked up, and saw the man was no longer ranting, but was looking over my shoulder with unnatural interest. He was watching the changes I had made to the graph, studying them with great detail. The zeal in his eye was unnerving, as he was ignoring me entirely and was drinking up the formulas visually. I could see him trying to commit them to memory.

Loudly I gathered up my papers, elbowing him in the ribs “by accident” and forcing him to step back. I spoke quickly and loudly, “Yes, yes, of course. This was only a child’s exercise.”. My papers gathered, I fold them into a neat packet and place packet, diary, pencils and all in my large tote-bag. As I did, I continued with, “And, as I’m sure you saw, an incorrect one. Once a function ceases to be a function, there is no way it could apply to life, after all.”. He looks annoyed, his eyes twitching as he tries to recall the insight that changed my perception.

“Yes, yes. You’re quite right. I mean, incorrect. I saw the dual-lined function, which destroys its utility. How could zero be equivalent to two?” As he agrees with me, he sounds dismayed and disheartened. “Then you shall cease this foolishness, then? No more dabbling with strange theorems and unverifiable nonsense?” He stares at me again, with the heated glare of a fervent man.

I smile softly, putting on the best false cheeriness I could muster. “Oh yes, no more nonsense for me. I know my place now, and I shall keep to it.” I bow slightly as I answer. He quickly brightens up, and with his body posture fully erect, declares victory over a struggle I did not know I had engaged in.

“Very well, then. There is no need for me to monitor you so closely now.” He turns and strides away, humming a little religious ditty to himself. I have to bite my tongue to keep from chuckling, as the tune actually mocks obsessive men such as himself.

I turn to leave myself, going the opposite way of the stern man. A fire has come to my eyes as well. If the equations I have uncovered are correct, I will be able to increase the chances of positive life changes, and decrease the chances of negative life changes. No more will I be subjected to apparently random events. And even for those events I can not change, I will be able to prepare for their arrival, instead of just being tossed into something new like last week’s laundry.

I did not lie to him. I know my place now. My place is as I make it. And I shall certainly keep to it, and not be dragged along someone else’s whims.

As I strode away from the table, the scene faded into shades of grey that darkened into undreaming black.

Make of it, what you may.