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.
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
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.
It’s time has come
Sends shivers down my spine
Eyes shutting all the time
I’ve got to go
Gotta leave the world behind and face the books
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,
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
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
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?
Although the rise of what exactly, I cannot fathom. All I see is fall: falling rain, falling leaves, falling colours, falling grades, falling temperatures…
Oh wait, never mind one of those. My math midterm isn’t over yet, so that’s yet to fall (oh, and crash too).
But fall, le autumn, is finally here! I got another Such Pro Much WowTM shot of the tree I’ve been stalking for what, two weeks now?
Here’s some fall candy for ya!
I don’t know if I should feel like a proud, I dunno, mama bear or something, watching my plant turn red. To be fair (and pretty emo, really), I’m watching and chronicling a plant’s leaves die, watching as every last bit of green turns red and the red flows into the leaves and finally drops off the tree, until every last drop of red hue is gone and blown away for good, decaying in the gutters nearby, displaced by a 30 km/hr, 9°C wind to be blinded by a flash of white a month later.
That’s a bit of a stretch, I’ll admit, but you get the point. It’s not really like the plant’s likely to enjoy an icy slush either.
So I guess what I’m trying to say here is, enjoy the fall while you can. Before the boundaries between fall and winter blur. Or if you have that toasty 30° October heatfest blazing through, curse me, I guess I’d have done the same.
Happy fall, y’all.
Staying up late at night to study has its own merits and demirits. I do some work, my mind wanders, poetry happens. Often.
I don’t always want to reach for my phone at 1 in the morning, it really messes up my rhythm.
So this is my new outlet.
I’m doing poetry on paper napkins! I could go all poetic about how fragile they are and everything, but you know the real story behind it; I’m just lazy.
I’m not sure how legible my handwriting is, it also happens to be my 2-AM-attempt-at-being-neat, so while it’s an aesthetic (I guess? That’s my alibi, after all!), I’m still going to transcribe it, for readability.
(Let me know if the Earth has launched out of our solar system and it’s actually readable enough for me to not need to transcribe it!)
So here goes nothing.
Einstein was right
Yes, time is relative
It’s relative, to space and sound
And all the people you’re around
Silence echoes louder than sound
Perhaps it does to some
For me, the white noise of my own thoughts
Begs sound’s intervention
Break through my inertia
Set me free
Take the place of disturbance
At once growling and motherly
For 9 PM and 3 AM
Are now the same to me
Bind me to my looming,
Free me, speak in my mind
How screwed an I if I disagree?
Coerce me, coax me
But get me through the shitstorm
I’m singleminded in the wrong ways
Steely resolve to absurdity
Break down my statue
A memorial to eternity
And then know that you’re free
To haunt my whisking dreams.
(Just a note, that’s my math textbook in the background. I’m truly sorry.)
There’s no better time to do your laundry than the evening before a math midterm.
Also, here’s today’s tree update:
Boy, look how deep it reddens every time I look at it.
This is my jacket putting up a fight against a drop of water. I just thought it would make for an interesting picture. It’s all about perspective, you see.
(My source of inspiration? I happen to be sitting outdoors on a bench overlooking the faculty of Architecture. I’m also sitting with my physics book in hand. It does create quite a mood.)
I could go on about the artistic cliché of how it looks like a crystal and everything, but I get the feeling this will end up turning into a discussion about the properties of crystals and how saturated nickel crystals look really pretty and how I kinda miss chemistry and how I’ve been stuck on a single page of physics for the past half hour, so I think I’ll spare you that.
(Also, my daily update on the tree:
On that note, I think I’ll head over to the architecture building and admire it. It looks awesome.
Happy thanksgiving, y’all!
Last afternoon, I passed a masterpiece on the street that took me to the conclusion that nature is basically Banksy: a tree that had, until just a day before yesterday been green, had begun to turn orange and red, only at the very top, in a most delightful way. Nature does her art in the dead of night anonymously. [I blogged about it too, right here: Fresh From The Canvas]
The tree is right outside our physics building.
The physics building has three entrances, so this tree is sort of my landmark for getting home, because I have an overbearing tendency to get lost around campus. Half the places I know the way to, I know because I found them when I got lost. So I’m the disorganised tour guide and this tree is my landmark for getting home alive with my brain distorted by special relativity. (If I can run fast enough for time to slow down, will the distance I have to walk to get home in the freezing cold decrease? [When something’s close to the speed of light, the time in its reference frame slows down, or dilates, and the distance in its reference frame contracts. Wish me luck on that midterm.]
Here’s a helpful hint to the answer: I’m currently ducking to avoid people I know from the basketball team. I can’t run to save my life.)
The tree my guiding light? How poetic.
Either way, I passed it again today, of course. I was in a good mood, and feeling pretty generous, decided to give you all an update on the art installation’s progress.
Sure there’s progress. As an art student who has spent five hours drawing a single character’s face, I can confirm it takes a while. (What’s that? I’m covering up for my inabilities? How very dare you.
But then again, you may just be right. Fractionally.)
And my being in that good mood had everything to do with busting out of a three-hour long physics lab an hour earlier than usual, with completed work for once, and being off until Tuesday because this Thanksgiving, I actually have something to be really thankful for: the Thanksgiving holiday! (As I may have mentioned a hundred times already on this blog, I am not, and may never, be ready for this midterm.)
It wasn’t just me though. My entire lab group was pretty happy.
Anyway, an early happy thanksgiving to you all! My priority this weekend is to sleep and sort out this mess that is my academic life.
In the meanwhile, here’s some eye candy for y’all. (Thanks for putting up with me and my big mouth.)
Happy fall, y’all!
PS: if you like the title of this post, you’ll love this:
This tree probably looked a little different a day ago. Nature’s begun working her magic. It’s still a half-finished job, but in terms of quality, her half-assed job is probably still better looking than anything I can put all week into.
As an art student (yeah, yeah, whatever, ex-art student, I’m not listening!), what I find incredible is just how easily the greens blend into reds.
On paper and in theory, red and green are stark opposites: on the opposite ends of the colour wheel. They’re complementary colours, the kind that you’d use when you want an element of your piece to stand out loud and be noticed.
But here, the colours seem to just softly blend into one another with no fuss. Green slowly turns orange as orange turns pink and deepens to red right the up the tip of its head.
Anyway, fall is beginning to show itself, and today isn’t cloudy. In fact, it isn’t even freezing (blame the wind). Reason enough for me to say, happy fall, y’all!
Yes, I realise I’m a nature obsessed freak. Deal with it. The good news may just be, with my midterms coming up next week, I probably won’t bother you for a while after. Enjoy the peace then… before I start bombarding this blog with every speck of dust I call a snowflake.
On my way back from French tonight, I passed by a building. A lot of buildings on campus are about a hundred years old, and while the design student in me is asleep, I’d eyeball it and guess that it’s Victorian architecture I gaze at every day. Victorian, perhaps, with a hint of long, painted glass windows. (Is gothic the word? I’m bad at this.)
Normally, this building is pretty lively, because there’s always a lot of activities going on in there: athletics, debates, conferences, music, and it even has its own theatre with independent productions, but you can normally only hear the general low din of voices mixing with the chilly air above.
Today as I passed by, I heard a rumbling piano. It rose right above anything else in the building, and mind you, it’s not exactly small, and it sounded really lively and good.
I figured I had some time to spare. So I followed the sound.
Thanks to the sheer volume, it was pretty easy to follow. I quickly ruled the theatre out: it was only pianos, but they were in perfect synch. From the general direction of the sound, I could also guess that it may have been the choir in practice or something. My friend had wanted to attend a session there once, and they promised they had no auditions, so we’d gone over to try it out. No auditions meant they couldn’t kick us off the choir.
We went. Twice.
And managed to be late both times, and decided it would be rude to interrupt thirty people and a conductor in full throaty flow.
So we didn’t actually make the choir.
Even though they had no auditions.
It’s a rare distinction, I suppose.
So I’m expecting to see the whole lot of them in evening practice, belting out gospels to the piano.
But instead, I walked by an empty room, a single person at the piano. I slowed down as I walked by because I could actually not believe that was only just one person.
One guy, lost in his practice, at the piano.
The room is sort of like a horizontal long hall, with three doors. As I passed the second, I saw the guy.
When I passed the third, I saw two people, a guy and a girl, practicing a waltz.
And here I’d expected the choir.
I don’t know, that kind of made me smile, so here I am blogging about it. It was nice to be proved wrong like that, and this was quite a wholesome little thing. It kinda does help make your day when you’ve just finished your last class of the day at 8 in the evening, I suppose.
After that, I just slowly slipped out of the hallway to the main exit, careful that I didn’t disrupt the magic they created in there, and continued my walk home.
And yes, I realise there is absolutely nothing particularly exciting about my own life right now, unless you consider midterms ‘exciting’ (you freak), and watching people slowly die on the inside just by looking at their todo list (high priority only, by the way).
If that’s your jam, drop by and say hi in the comments. If that isn’t your jam, drop by and say hi anyway, I’d love to talk! (That’s an alibi, you realise? Just distract me. Another five minutes. Just a few more, alright?)
… alright, not that high up. Three storeys. It still just sounded like a better title in my head, I suppose.
But look who stopped by our window to say hello!
(Or maybe, yo, where are all my nuts?! You’re lookin’ at ‘em, here behind the phone.)
And then it had had enough of modelling for me.
It gave me one last wary look, cursed me in the name of acorns, and left to find some real grub.
“Pseudos,” it scoffed.
Everyone has those zoned out days where you’re just gazing off into the distance, the thoughts running through your head worthy of belonging in a published philosophy book (or so it seems at the moment, anyway) and the thoughts in your head fill the quiet afternoon.
Today was this needlenose’s day.
The CN tower, with its head in the clouds.
Enjoy your afternoon!
Just me being me, an excited, immature kid whipping out the camera every time I pass something I find cool, basically acting like all the tourists that come on campus tours around here (there’s no denying it looks good, but I do hopefully plan on staying on all four years!)
I personally really like the first picture, even though the light contrast doesn’t actually tell you the leaves are turning red.
Either way, it’s eye candy for you, I hope!