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Life

Worry,

Hurry;

Blurry,

Scurry.

Curry,

Flurry;

Bury.

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A Midnight’s Dilemma

To write or not to write- that is half a question
To go over in the mind asleep;
Slings and arrows of wakefulness
To surface from its sea to consciousness
Or suppress them, end them. To sleep, to sleep–
No more– and by a sleep to say release
Let go of a thousand and more thoughts
That the mind is heir to- ‘tis euphoria
Devoutly to be wished. To sleep, to sleep–
To sleep, perchance till twelve. Ay, there’s the rub,
Of an eye, for ‘til the fresh rays come,
The thought has left this mortal coil.
This gives us pause. There’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long and dark a night.
For who would bear the glares and ticks of time,
The spacing out, the offended glares,
The pangs of a body hungering for sleep, and its arrival’s delay
The sleep deprivations and the spins
This patient merit of th’ body takes
When he himself his bed made,
With bare hands? Who would fardels bear,
To fumble in the dark, for the light switch
But the dread of losing that thought,
It’s departure to new-found lands
From where it never returns, puzzles the will
And makes us pick those quills we have
And have them fly over flapping sheets
Thus does the clock above make fools of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
To shut the eyes tight, and ward off all thought
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of another thought
But enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard, their currents hasten
But sleep must lose the name of action– Sleep-deprived you now!
The fair inkiness! Black, In thy testament
Be all my sins remember’d.

 

P.S. as you can probably guess, it’s that time of the year again.

Test time.

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Bohemian Lament

Exams draw near, and it brings out the worst in me.

In my defence, I get bored.

 

Is this a real pile? Is it just fall-acy?
Caught in a landslide
Of books sliding down on me
Open your eyes
Look up to the ceilings and see
I’m just a poor boy
Pile of books taller than me,
Knowledge easy come, easy go
Little high, little low
Any way the wind blows,
The answers seem to blow with them
Away from me

Mama just killed a man
Just the turn of a page,
Now he’s confused and filled with rage

Mama, the lesson’d just begun
But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away

Mamaaa ooooooooooo
Didn’t mean to make you cry
But I won’t be done with this by tomorrow
Grind on, grind on
As if nothing really matters.

Too quick
It’s time has come
Sends shivers down my spine
Eyes shutting all the time

Goodbye everybody
I’ve got to go
Gotta leave the world behind and face the books

Mama, oooooo
I don’t wanna die
And sometimes wish I’d studied a bit before

I see a little silhouette of a book
Scandium, scandium, can you be less scandalous
Thunderbolts and lightning are just electrons flying at you
Galileo, Galileo, Galileo, Galileo Galileo didn’t see this coming,
No-o-o-o-o.

I’m an unpaired electron, nobody loves me
Unpaired and Lost from his metal was he
Spare him his life of unfulfilled valency
Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?
Bismillah! No, we will not let you go
Let him go!
Bismillah! We will not let you go
(Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go
(Let me go.) Will not let you go
(Let me go.) Will not let you go. (Let me go.) Ah
No, no, no, no, no, no, no
(Oh mamma mia, mamma mia) Mamma mia, let me go
Bismuth has an orbital put aside for me
For me
For mee!

So you think the plain ground state was made for I?
So you think I’ll just keep spinning here till I die?
Oh, gaining, velocity baby,
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right out of here

(Put down the book, and)
Nothing really matters
All the prep there can be
Nothing makes the difference
For me.

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Cycle of Life

I was reading an article on how the population equilibrium on the planet will be maintained- a cycle of events that supposedly take place, that ensure a balance in human numbers on the planet.

Very roughly, they cycled as follows:
At first, there was a medium-ish population, and a small, hand sowed-and-reaped produce just enough to feed it.
If the population increased, the food supply was the limiting or checking factor, maintaining our population size.

Then came the mechanisation.
All of a sudden, with industrialisation, machines were reaping more crops than ever.

For once, an increasing population had enough, and even surplus food in store. (Cue: the Great Depression of the late ’20s, where the grain produce was so much, it had no more value in the markets.)

With this, and advances in technology and medicine, the so-far tight check on population growth loosened, and what began was the third phase of the cycle: something we call the population explosion.

In this stage, life conditions look relatively hunky dory, people live, live, and keep on living.

We’re accelerating too much, the problem of today.

Well, here’s what the cycle says.
This is where a fourth phase in the cycle kicks in.

There will then follow a stabilisation, wherein, with lower mortality rates and more longevity, humans will start reproducing less.
There simply won’t be a need for people to have as many kids anymore.
[Also, I may add, the lack of a libido, as seen in the Japanese, and the introduction of AI into the sex sphere, may play big roles in bringing down the very need/urge for human sex, and indirectly, reproduction.]

Now, I’m not economist or researcher. But I have another theory.

The human race will advance further in the intelligence sphere, and we’ll soon be delegating our intelligence to algorithms.

We’ll progress to the point where we’ve become far too comfortable.
(And trust me, we’re on our way there.)

The human body was designed for action. We were predators and prey once. Now we prey on the supermarket.
We use to be on the move.

Heaven knows we may adapt to inactivity. But mostly, I think that would fall apart.

Soon, non-movement-related illnesses would begin to take control of the human race, and human numbers will fall, because most likely, we won’t be able to reverse the damage.
Lifestyles mostly only progressively change, not regressively.

Now birth and death rates will balance out, and for all you know, despite improving technology, we may not have the problem of food surplus, because of the growing importance of (and money diverted to the production of) medicinal precautionary drugs, etc. in the human diet.
We come back to Step 1 of the cycle, i.e., balance. (Birth = death ≤ food supply).

There is another way, though.

Human beings’ strongest claim to the top of the hierarchy has always been their superior thinking ability. We’ve outsmarted and ousted almost every other dominant species on the planet. We call it civilisation.

But, of late, we’ve been handing over the reigns to the Golden Age bearers; with a machine to do everything a human can, the human needn’t work anymore. We have submitted to the idea of the Reigner Supreme: the now preferred machine.
Soon enough, the machine takes over the thinking aspect as well. Like a rusting machine, the now-useless human brain rots away in wastefulness.
No longer the well-oiled machine it once was, the evolution of the human brain stops.
With our front running claim to the top, our biggest weapon blunted, we will slide lower. Rationality and logical thinking will be lost, one bad decision will lead to another, till we’ve effectively dwindled down to the last human.
Ain’t that hard to kill the last dodo, is it now?

At last the cycle will end, and the winners, created by the ones they destroyed, the Reigning Machines, the victors, would stand tall, perfect and purposeless.

Hey, I’m only a science fiction writer, but who’s to say that dolphins won’t rule our planet one day?

 

Melodramatic Fugue In B-Flat Minor

It’s that time of the year again. 

Contradictions galore, as everyone sets out for the battle of a lifetime (or at least, lifetime, until the next time).

Conflicted souls unsure of the direction they’re headed in, often found mumbling something along the lines of, “I can’t see, am I moving forward or backwards?” and stumbling in the dark of the 3 AM blackness. 

People simultaneously knowing, for the first time, what they need to do (and what they really need to get done) and yet having no idea what they’re doing. 

People hitting their creative highs and yet staring up from the depths of despair, hopelessness and unproductivity.

The one time where half the fight is even knowing whether procrastination’s the enemy or a warm arm around a shoulder.

It’s finals season, and heck, I probably personify all I’ve just said, I don’t think I could get worse.
 


Or, depending on how you look at that, my highest best. 

In the yellowish aura of my Christmas lights. Can we skip ahead to Christmas already? It sounds a lot nicer than two finals a day.

It seems I must run dry in either one department, I can’t have them both. 

I’ll just take advantage of that fact every once in a while for what it’s worth, and other times, physics will be my bride. 

Ew. Of course, my physics textbook features even in the orange video. 

In the meanwhile, eat oranges and look sharp!

Winter’s coming! 

Asymptotic Allegories

There’s a white waterfall over me
Not a conspiracy theorist, but I think it’s whitewashing me
Found a spot dead in the middle of the floor
I’ve just begun and I can’t take it anymore
There’s a sign with ten red cautions on the door
Push me open, they silently implore

Grey lines race across grey carpets on the floor
Oddly calming anathema to what’s in store
For me, why can’t I see, it’s looming over me
Was I just never tested for ADHD

Unemployed sociologist undercover
See a girl run up and pounce on her lover
He makes no move, his face is a cloud
Just as I sit here, weaving my own shroud

What you need lies not beyond but on your table
Under your nose, it’s a challenge, are you able
When everyone’s calculated but I can’t do a thing
Writing trashy poetry won’t save my math from a failing grade

 

I’m sitting with my math book in the library. It’s past midday. My midterm’s tomorrow. What am I doing with my life.

It Is Time!

If I have anything to say for myself with regards to my prolonged and mysteriously silent absence, all I can say is that I was frozen in time. I’m not even kidding. If midterms weren’t time consuming enough, check this out: 

This is the definition of perfection (ignoring the fact that my hands have frozen just like the rest of me).

I can’t complain about the cold when going outside is this rewarding! 

In other stories, Merry Christmas already. If I can get myself out of bed by then, I’ll be amazed with myself. I went to bed at 4:45 AM last night questioning why I even bother trying to sleep. 

But then again, it wasn’t too bad a day either.

Please ignore the mess. My roommate’s getting better at doing that. 

I can’t wait for December. I can’t wait for finals to end. 

And while your mercurial and unpunctual writer waits…

Scratch that, I’m just waiting for a decent hour tonight so I can go to bed. On Maslow’s pyramid, I’ve dropped to the underground levels where the Pharos were buried. 

Which basically should translate to only so much: I’m underground 😉

Until the next time I surface for breath!

Medley

God bless Thesaurus. Or whoever you may believe in.

They deserve it, and as someone who is up at 12 in the morning trying to finish a 1500 word essay and is slowly running out of collective nouns to express what I feel about a group of people I’m tired of calling a choir, I hereby give my wholesome and heartfelt thanks to Thesaurus. 

Dearest Thesaurus,

Thanks for the miscellany of words. When the assortment of phrases in my head has begun to wear thin, you sure brought me bags and bags of relief. You’ve got to believe that, among the conglomeration of emotions I am currently experiencing, gratefulness is definitely one.

Collectively yours,(???)

Matt.

In the process, I feel like I’ve really got to brush up on the words I can use to give thanks. If I don’t break my habit of beginning essays really late, I’ll be using those words a lot more often than I’ll be using, “Whew, that’s gone through in time!”

Seriously though, Thesaurus probably is the best. You’ll just realise that one night, at 11:58 PM.

Remember me on that day. 

Freeze Frame

Fall’s reign is over. 

It’s a wonder of sorts that I am remotely able to say this, given the state of my fingers. If you’ve ever felt like the cold is so bad you’re afraid your nose or even your fingers might fall off, be thankful it was mostly only rhetoric in your case.

Check out this poor guy.

That’s the very same tree I’ve been plaguing like a paparazzi would a slippery star, all month long, and it’s finally lost all its leaves to winter’s incoming onslaught.

I suppose that means I can’t take any more pictures of it (and you poor folks are finally rid of my tree photography).

I’ve also got to admit this post is a bit of a test. I’ve been wielding my phone camera like a hungry kid would a spoon at dinnertime… assuming they weren’t eating bread. Fortunately for me, there’s tons of stuff out here and my camera’s looking sharp (quite literally, you see) and my memory isn’t. 

(On that note I should probably mention I have a midterm tomorrow.)

I’ve got more pictures on me than space, I fear, both on my phone and on WordPress. 

And before you sigh in relief, I’ll let you know I’ve been solution-seeking. 

Tumblr!

It’s super easy to upload photographs there and simply embed them into WordPress instead. So you’ll probably never be rid of me. Never ever! 

(evil cackles are heard in the foreground as ghostly laments moan in the background, almost seemingly as if they were screaming out “Nooooooooo” in agony. A few terrified birds shoot out of their nests with alarmed cries and take refuge in the skies as the sun dips down and begins to hand over its reigns to the night. In the silvery, gloomy twilight, the dying day seems to reflect the reader’s despair as they hunt, fruitlessly for that ‘Unsubscribe’ button…)

I’m honestly not that bad though, you know. 

One For The Vin

So I have wine in my room. 

It came as a bit of a surprise to me too, honestly, because I didn’t even know of this. I just walked in, late at night, and behold: le vin! 

I don’t know if this is legal, to be honest. 

Residence rules state you can’t bring in any bottles of alcohol with you. 

Let’s harp on the technicalities of this statement for a minute. 

Glass bottles are not allowed (cans are, by the way).

I have a plastic coffee mug. 

You can’t bring in any with you.

Well, here’s the thing: I didn’t bring any in with me. 

Or at least, it wasn’t wine when I brought it in. 

When I brought it in with me, it was a harmless little plastic coffee cup of light peach juice. 

Three weeks ago. 

Now it’s an aged, vintage, peach flavoured summer wine. 

God, my roommate hates me. 

But if you don’t, and have had a bad midterm season and need something quick and easy, just give me a call and drop by!

PS: this can’t be against the rules, I didn’t bring in alcohol, I just have a very green thumb and an amazing memory. I make classics without trying. 

Speed Trials

You have no idea…

How good it feels…

To come back home,

Having submitted an assignment…

And only having one more left…

To submit fifteen hours later.

I’m so looking forward to reading week!

 

(Published via a phone nearly dead from uploading assignment scans at 12:20 AM as your blogger hauls ass back home nearly out of breath from a submission made at 23:59:58 (probably) for a submission due before midnight.)

Canuck Reflections

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Right, so I tried following the design principles and completely missed it this time: the edge of the knife could end up pulling your attention out of the picture. Don’t go away yet!

This is what happens when I’m not paying attention at 10 in the morning.

I was sitting for breakfast with my eye on the clock and my mind in my psychology class, for which I was only minutes away from being late.

Nothing new, nothing to panic about, really. I should be used to this by now.

But by this time, the syrup had spread all over my plate and had become a golden mirror.

Looking down at it though, something struck me: just look at this picture.

Pancakes, maple syrup, and a reflection of a maple tree from outside the window, all in a single frame. Does it get more Canadian than this?

(‘No hockey sticks nearby’ would be a good point to make, in all fairness.)

So I decided to strain the limits of my gallery’s storage and am plaguing your reader feeds again.

Have a nice day!

Hide And Seek

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It’s been raining all day. After a pretty uncharacteristically and suspiciously sunny Tuesday, the skies have shown their true colours today: grey.

I don’t know if we should be worried about incoming alien attacks in the near future, because that right there is the clouds having basically eaten the CN tower.

I don’t know of an attack on anything more Canadian than that.

Except maybe the winter and poutine. (But you’re expected to eat that, aren’t you? Yes, well, you’re right, not me, but other people in general.)

I don’t know really. Maybe I’ll be that person who teams up with the aliens just because they seem cool. At any rate, I’m. It particularly worried about an alien attack. (No, it’s not true that I’ve been preparing for one for years, what gives you that impression?)

I’m just honestly kind of pleased with the picture. The tree provides a nice frame in a contrasting colour that would make design rule purists real happy. That frame is also the only way you’d know what actually the subject of my photograph is!

If you do really want to see a jaded, cloudy CN tower though, I may have a little something for you.

66FE6E4F-12AD-45A0-B02C-1CC4173A58BF
There. Now can we get a smile on this gloomy day already?

Still can’t wait for this week to end, because I’m going home!

I’m Coming For You.

I have it!!

After days and weeks of thinking, I finally have the idea I was searching for!

Since I live on residence and flew with weight constrains, I hadn’t packed for Halloween at all. No fancy costumes, no elaborate art and craft material, and an ass too lazy to go off campus do not auger well for my trick or treating prospects. 

Yes, I’m in college and I’m ready to trick or treat. I also have a math problem set due the next day, does that sound familiar now?

So I’ve decided to do the best I can. 

I’m going to wrap my comforter around myself, not brush my hair, and go knocking down doors. 

I’m going to be your bad hair day. 

I’m going to be that day you can’t leave bed. 

I’m going to be your lack of motivation, your depression, you crushed hopes and dreams. 

Get your candy ready.