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Strings

the ringularity makes you dance,

whether you want it or not.

                 -kurzgesagt 




Blackholes, the great devourers of the universe from which even light cannot escape; and the favorite topic of passionate amateur discussion at my college dorm room. But what struck me most amazing is the one thing that they cannot do; being the all-powerful literal world destroyers that they are.

Crossing the event horizon is the last thing your meat, bones, hoes, and dreams could do. Bu there may be one silver lining to this extremely eventful process that starts with you being pulled into a noodle, and ends in you being one with the ringularity at the center of the blackhole you decided to take a dip in; the fact that of all things, even a black hole could not destroy the information contained within you.

We all are more than the sum of our parts; apart from every single fundamental particle that makes us up, we carry, in us, the information needed to make us, of all things, from these parts. All of our cogs and wheels are tied to one another by tiny invisible strings that informs each other of how they all go together, and even more thinner strings that record every relation they ever had with anything; about any configuration they were put together in the past. Your mass can be annihilated; your memories, erased. Buth the infinite network of strings that informs everything of everything’s relations with each other; those cannot be severed. They can be drawn almost infinitely thin; but not severed.

When you burn a poem, you spent a lot of energy to mutilate the configuration of that object, that the strings that held them together once are stretched far too thin. But they still remain. There was light from that combustion event that saw it happen; there was a specific order in which each molecule got oxidized; there is proof in this universe about where all that ash and carbon dioxide went. If you could trace back all these strings; we could put it all back together and read the same poem once more. Information can be scrambled, but never destroyed. Even black holes; machines capable of destroying billions of stars, is not exempt from this. They may, very well, be the best scramblers in the universe; but even they cannot sever the strings that connects us all, and tells the history of all of us, and so much that went down before all of us.

The universe never forgets.

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