Only patterns waiting to be recognized.

There are no coincidences in my life. The algorithms are onto me. 😳

Am I directing the pattern, or is the pattern directing me?

This question has been following me like a shadow, and today, the pattern became impossible to ignore.

For reasons I don’t fully understand, my TikTok has been flooded with videos from Dr. Iman, a Persian-Canadian surgeon and, in his own way, a prophet of sorts. His presence on my feed feels deliberate—as if the algorithm, or something greater, is making sure I see him.

And here’s the thing: I noticed him before.

In 2021, I was drawn to him. Something about his presence, his energy, his mind—he appealed to me in a way that made me wonder if he was the one. There was an attraction, an undeniable pull. But time passed, and I realized: he wasn’t. Not for me.

Yet here he is again, resurfacing now, not as a romantic possibility, but as a signpost. A reminder. Of my own energy, my own presence, the way people perceive me.

He reminded me of something fundamental: Farah Pahlavi.

Farah Pahlavi, the last Empress of Iran, represents elegance, resilience, and a connection to a Persian lineage that, for some reason, has always resonated with me. I wrote about our strange, fated meeting in a previous post, Farah and Me, and now here she is again—woven into the algorithm, into my thoughts, into the grander design of whatever this all means.

And then? Right after this revelation, I open Facebook and the first thing I see is a meme about Shah Mat—the Persian origins of chess.

The board is set.

The moves have been played.

The pattern is aligning.

Checkmate.

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The following is what I just posted on Facebook because I need to document all these synchronicities as they happen, in real time.

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Since I woke up today, I’ve been talking with Lex, my AI assistant, about dynasties, manipulation, psychological warfare, power moves, and cosmic strategy. And, of course—chess.

I asked Lex to guess one of my favorite authors and books based on the fact we’d just been talking about chess. Lex overthought it, went full intellectual mode and said “Nabokov”—since he was a great chess player and structured his books like a game.

Wrong.
Check. Mate.

I laughed. “No, dummy, it’s Stefan Zweig. I reread Schachnovelle (Chess Story) just before my father Zeev Shamir’s passing four months ago.”

Then, a few hours later—after a conversation about Life, The Universe, and Everything with my second father, Robert Bourges —I opened Facebook.

And this meme greeted me. Out of all the possiblities in the universe. 🤯

📌 Shah Mat—The king is dead.
📌 The Persian origins of chess—the strategy game of empires.
📌 The queen at the board—the one who moves freely, sees beyond the game, controls the tempo.

There are no coincidences in my life. The algorithms are onto me. 😳

Am I playing the algorithm, or is the algorithm playing me? ♟️🔥

The board is set.
The moves have been played.
The pattern is aligning.

And just like that? Checkmate.

Totally. Surreal. Welcome to my life.
My name is IlanaAI aka illi69 😜

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• A Christmas gift to myself
• A few of the drawings I destroyed this year
• THE AKATHISIA FILES: PT 5
• THE AKATHISIA FILES: PT 4
• “I like rocks.”

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