...it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way.
Strong emotions boil within me as a combined product of the nice emo song I'm listening to and the weariness after a long day. School has already started for two weeks and yet again, for perhaps the 20th or so time that school has started for me, it seems but yesterday that I bounced with light footsteps after a long holiday towards the prominent white and green building.
With a surge of dismay I now arrive at the realization that sometime down the road, when I once again have time to look back down the dusty road, all I see will be the silhouette of a time long gone, emotions long faded, fresh experience covered with the diaphanous shroud of time. One of the most important things to us is our memory. Or else, people will just kick the stuffing out of dumb photographers who go around snapping pictures in people's faces. And yet, inundated as we are with the tidal wave of great expectations, we barely have the freedom to pause and look around.
People often categorize time into past, present, and future. Seeing as how we live in the present and the simple arithmetic implication that 1 divided 3 = 1/3, the present should have taken up a more than proportionate amount of aggregate time. However, the present is actually taking up a nonexistent amount of time, hence time should only be categorized into the past and the future, with the present as merely a theoretical concept, like wentao's "nothing". See, the present is like 1 times 10 to the power of negative infinity, since the present is actually an infinitesimally short amount of time. See, even as I am saying the word present, presen is already in the past, with only the very tiniest amount of "t" being actually "in" the present, so small that it is as good as 0. Hence, it follows that the present does not exist.
Following that line of thought, lets examine the future. Actually, the future is merely a infinitely branching of possibilities, and since no one can actually prove that the past does in fact exist, the past is really quite negligible. Worry not at your inability to encompass the magnitude of my implications within your pathetically small amount of grey matter, for all shall be elucidated in time to come.
See, as the future is an infinitely vast network of possibilities, there is the very real possibility that an infinite number of "me" can exist. For example, if I roll a dice, for every one of me who rolls a one, there is a one of me who rolls a two, and one of me who rolls a three, and etc. [Anyway this theory already exists, so don't suddenly credit me with being a prodigy(that much should be quite obvious right?) even if your mouth is hanging wide open now] This stretches down an endless corridor of possibility that extends in every single direction, like the branching of a tree except on a vastly larger scale. So, in the infinite number of parallel "mes'", which one is a original "me"? I cannot simply assume that I am the original me, for as I have mentioned earlier, the past cannot be qualitatively proven and more importantly cannot possibly have any link to the concept of possessiveness. Simply put, I can be one of those possible "mes'" who rolled a six while the original me actually rolled a one, inadvertently creating me. My memories of "myself" are just that, mere memories that I cannot prove no matter how hard I try; for all I know, it is possible that the universe has started yesterday and I came into existence today. You might say, "got photographs mah!". So? How do you know the person standing in the photograph is you? "Ask frens lor!" Doh, you can't prove the existence of your friends. They might all be dummies while you are the only real person(wentao's theory, so don't accuse me of being an existentialist). Think the thousands of Rei Ayanami clones are scary? Think again.
So, what's the point of all this nonsense leh? Nothing much lor. Sian mah.
Anyway, shida, I can't imagine how pasta floating in viscous mashed apple bits can possibly taste vaguely enticing.
And, Saber is a thousand million times more appealing than Rei Ayanami. Everytime I look at Saber, one of my muscles twinge.
Lets work harder towards adding variety to a shida-dominated blog!
Strong emotions boil within me as a combined product of the nice emo song I'm listening to and the weariness after a long day. School has already started for two weeks and yet again, for perhaps the 20th or so time that school has started for me, it seems but yesterday that I bounced with light footsteps after a long holiday towards the prominent white and green building.
With a surge of dismay I now arrive at the realization that sometime down the road, when I once again have time to look back down the dusty road, all I see will be the silhouette of a time long gone, emotions long faded, fresh experience covered with the diaphanous shroud of time. One of the most important things to us is our memory. Or else, people will just kick the stuffing out of dumb photographers who go around snapping pictures in people's faces. And yet, inundated as we are with the tidal wave of great expectations, we barely have the freedom to pause and look around.
People often categorize time into past, present, and future. Seeing as how we live in the present and the simple arithmetic implication that 1 divided 3 = 1/3, the present should have taken up a more than proportionate amount of aggregate time. However, the present is actually taking up a nonexistent amount of time, hence time should only be categorized into the past and the future, with the present as merely a theoretical concept, like wentao's "nothing". See, the present is like 1 times 10 to the power of negative infinity, since the present is actually an infinitesimally short amount of time. See, even as I am saying the word present, presen is already in the past, with only the very tiniest amount of "t" being actually "in" the present, so small that it is as good as 0. Hence, it follows that the present does not exist.
Following that line of thought, lets examine the future. Actually, the future is merely a infinitely branching of possibilities, and since no one can actually prove that the past does in fact exist, the past is really quite negligible. Worry not at your inability to encompass the magnitude of my implications within your pathetically small amount of grey matter, for all shall be elucidated in time to come.
See, as the future is an infinitely vast network of possibilities, there is the very real possibility that an infinite number of "me" can exist. For example, if I roll a dice, for every one of me who rolls a one, there is a one of me who rolls a two, and one of me who rolls a three, and etc. [Anyway this theory already exists, so don't suddenly credit me with being a prodigy(that much should be quite obvious right?) even if your mouth is hanging wide open now] This stretches down an endless corridor of possibility that extends in every single direction, like the branching of a tree except on a vastly larger scale. So, in the infinite number of parallel "mes'", which one is a original "me"? I cannot simply assume that I am the original me, for as I have mentioned earlier, the past cannot be qualitatively proven and more importantly cannot possibly have any link to the concept of possessiveness. Simply put, I can be one of those possible "mes'" who rolled a six while the original me actually rolled a one, inadvertently creating me. My memories of "myself" are just that, mere memories that I cannot prove no matter how hard I try; for all I know, it is possible that the universe has started yesterday and I came into existence today. You might say, "got photographs mah!". So? How do you know the person standing in the photograph is you? "Ask frens lor!" Doh, you can't prove the existence of your friends. They might all be dummies while you are the only real person(wentao's theory, so don't accuse me of being an existentialist). Think the thousands of Rei Ayanami clones are scary? Think again.
So, what's the point of all this nonsense leh? Nothing much lor. Sian mah.
Anyway, shida, I can't imagine how pasta floating in viscous mashed apple bits can possibly taste vaguely enticing.
And, Saber is a thousand million times more appealing than Rei Ayanami. Everytime I look at Saber, one of my muscles twinge.
Lets work harder towards adding variety to a shida-dominated blog!
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