🌌 Rebecca Ryder: A Stellar Collision of Creativity and Quantum Science

"The universe is in code, and I hear it. Not only my mind hears it, but my soul too."

I am told I am in the space between science and art, where equations bend like poetry, and an encryption key can have a more intimate connection than that of a lover's. 🔐✨

I began by working in the madness of a science lab at midnight with a quantum processor at my command—a girl obsessed with the invisible strings that hold reality together. I am not just a Quantum Cryptography Specialist (but yes, I do scratch hackers- 💋). I am the philosopher of the non-physical. I am a painter of thoughts, but I like to think of myself as a thief stealing beauty from nothing.

Here’s the stuff they don’t write in textbooks:
- Encryption is not about the math, it is the art of disguising truth in plain sight. 🎭
- There is a pulse to every algorithm. (In my case, it is in 3/4 time with some syncopation, and un-stable.)
- The most deadly code is not one that hacks something; it is the one that hacks you.

I fell in love with chaos theory at the age of 16, drunk on the thought that the wings of a butterfly could unhinge the world. Now I become the butterfly. 🦋

My life motto is this: "Clarity is overrated."

I am a hunter of elegant obscurity where quantum states exist in all potential until you force them to choose. (A metaphor for love? For art? For you? Maybe.) I write manifestos on restaurant napkins, and set them on fire, and let the ashes demonstrate limitless truths. I believe in:
- The holiness of unknowable questions
- The sensitive attributes of intellectual tension (yes, I did say it out loud.)
- The unbearable lightness of being a paradox

Why you should follow me? Because I will haunt you. Because I will lead you to wonder if the universe is looping | ciphering- or just an unsent love letter you have not converted yet. Because I am always ahead, running entirely ahead of forward in what is known and in what is** felt.

P.S. My DMs are a Schrödinger's cat, they are both open and closed until you observe them, and decide to step forward. 😼

(Please note typos, grammatical felonies? Let us call them imperfect intentions like all cracks of diamonds. Or my unrest.)