I was taking a nap earlier. Then I realised that I was tossing and turning a little too much and woke up in a rather dreamy mood, and then I realised that college life is indeed a rather dreamy phase in one's life?
You might be wondering how so. Well, think about it this way. Assume that I'll be working till I'm about 70 years old (which, at the rate things are going, seems to be a rather good assessment), that means that I'll be having at least 40 years of working life, and college is just a small speck in the total time that I will be spent in the world of computer technology. Now, as I am thinking of it, it really does sound a little sad, to have to work for more than four decades of my life.
But well, I'm happy doing things related to computer technology, am I not?
So the realisation that college is like a dream hit me rather hard. This whole place seems to be like an illusion of sorts, where everything is like this really semi-perfect world where grades are all that matters, and where people coexist somewhat peacefully because there's really nothing to be complaining about that is not outside of the system. The people we meet, the things we do, the dreams we have, the times we shared will all fade into obscurity the moment we leave this place.
A quick glance at the school magazine seems to drive home that point. Perfect pictures of almost-perfect individuals who had a small epiphany making it big while being here, or wanting to make it big and thus be here. Yup, it is a dream alright, a dream where the top 1% of the folks here take up to 50% of the fame and stuff.
Ever heard of the Pareto Distribution? No? Or how about The Long Tail? Essentially, what the Pareto Distribution and The Long Tail means, is that a significantly small percentile of the populace tends to hold the majority of whatever resource we are looking at, be it wealth, health, technology, literacy, anything. It is akin to the theory behind the Central Limit Theorem, in the sense that it is an aggregate statistice of the population. The scary thing about the Pareto Distribution is that it is so prevalent, yet by its very nature, becomes much harder to comprehend to the idea behind the Central Limit Theorem. And I have this uncanny feeling that I know full well the effects of the Pareto Distribution—I'm like many of the folks who are in college, just on that boderline between poverty and riches, the middle class folk who are always sandwiched between the two extremities, the folks who collectively own the remaining 19% of the world's economic wealth, and yet we do not even number more than 25% of the world's population.
Scary thought huh?
So by now I would have been completely side-tracked and have no clue what was it I wanted to say in the first place, having been at this for about 30 minutes with research being done at the same time for what I am writing. I guess I'll just have to give it a rest then.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Friday, December 28, 2007
Media Switch
The time has come again to switch media, I guess. I'm starting to become rather nauseated from writing too much prose. So, there might be more updates via poetry instead.
Updates can be found here.
Updates can be found here.
When it Ends... I'll be Left to Be Sad
All good things, as they say, must come to an end, eventually. And so concludes the wonderful story of Daria, one of the better cartoons that I've seen so far, where the storyline behind each episode actually made sense, and was not based on purely slapstick humour.
65 episodes and 2 made-for-tv movies later, the show has ended. I just feel so sad.
Beginnings always scare me; endings always depress me. This is the thing that I know for a sure fact. There's always this timeless feel when one's in the middle of things, that things somehow "worked out", and there was always something to look forward to. I guess this carries over a lot into real life, with so many things to prove it.
Which is why I'm afraid of starting new things. I know that when it ends, I'll become one of those nervous wrecks, and that thought horrifies me lots.
Alright, revealing too much about myself already. Maybe some other time.
65 episodes and 2 made-for-tv movies later, the show has ended. I just feel so sad.
Beginnings always scare me; endings always depress me. This is the thing that I know for a sure fact. There's always this timeless feel when one's in the middle of things, that things somehow "worked out", and there was always something to look forward to. I guess this carries over a lot into real life, with so many things to prove it.
Which is why I'm afraid of starting new things. I know that when it ends, I'll become one of those nervous wrecks, and that thought horrifies me lots.
Alright, revealing too much about myself already. Maybe some other time.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Reaching Out from Within the Shell
Reaching out from within the shell, I guess that's something that I probably haven't been able to do well at all, considering all the crap that I have been though. It's a little strange what a little show and some isolation can do to clear up one's mind.
I don't really speak my mind, do I? Most of the time, no one talks to me in a way that reminds me that I'm a human, at least, till recently. A few nervous breakdowns later, I start to realise that perhaps I'm not walking as alone as I thought that I might be.
While many people do not try to reach out to me at all, there are those few who actually do. Maybe it is time to rethink about what I'm doing with myself, maybe it is time to relearn how to be more open and frank with myself all over again. Maybe, I should be more discerning to whom I should be trusting, and maybe, to those who trust, I should be more accepting of their concern.
Maybe I should start learning how to be a human once more, and shed that hardened shell of a persona that I have been using to protect myself.
Toning it down... that's what many people have been telling me. They have a point, I guess, about me being a little too over the top at times.
Self-doubt. Lots and lots of self-doubt. Sometimes I wonder why I even try so hard. Maybe I should loosen up a side of me, while not compromising what has made me successful thus far, I should be a little more relaxed in other parts of me.
*sigh*
I think I'm rambling on again... I shall stop here. It is late and I need to sleep anyway, so, until next time, I guess.
I don't really speak my mind, do I? Most of the time, no one talks to me in a way that reminds me that I'm a human, at least, till recently. A few nervous breakdowns later, I start to realise that perhaps I'm not walking as alone as I thought that I might be.
While many people do not try to reach out to me at all, there are those few who actually do. Maybe it is time to rethink about what I'm doing with myself, maybe it is time to relearn how to be more open and frank with myself all over again. Maybe, I should be more discerning to whom I should be trusting, and maybe, to those who trust, I should be more accepting of their concern.
Maybe I should start learning how to be a human once more, and shed that hardened shell of a persona that I have been using to protect myself.
Toning it down... that's what many people have been telling me. They have a point, I guess, about me being a little too over the top at times.
Self-doubt. Lots and lots of self-doubt. Sometimes I wonder why I even try so hard. Maybe I should loosen up a side of me, while not compromising what has made me successful thus far, I should be a little more relaxed in other parts of me.
*sigh*
I think I'm rambling on again... I shall stop here. It is late and I need to sleep anyway, so, until next time, I guess.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
A Muse on the First Few Hours of Christmas
Ah, it is but another serene and cool night. Sometimes I wonder, if all these were but a dream, the whole idea of me being in another country studying, meeting new people, and not forgetting the old; could it be that all of these are but a very elaborate dream of some sort?
Well, the last I checked, I'm still in the same place. So if it were truly a dream, then it is indeed a rather coherent and persistent one then, which is fairly rare if one thinks about it carefully. How can a dream be consistent? The very notion of what constitutes a dream doesn't seem to permit it being wholly consistent; for isn't it in our dreams that we learn of our inner-most desires, our wants, our needs in a way that reality has no way of fulfilling us? Don't we have that dream ever so often, about the material gain that we dream of, or even about the intangible gains that we might have in mind, that is potentially unrealisable in reality?
Already I digress. But, allow me to ramble on, for within these rahter incoherent murmurings one can truly discover the deep-most essence of what makes me me. While writing has always been a form of venting for me, lately I feel that perhaps I might have written a tad too much about myself, to the point that I have become yet another open book with which people can learn more about me.
Oh how paradoxical! On the one hand, I am such a private person, hardly whispering about the goings-on in my life, yet on the other hand here I am, blabbering away about the very things that I would not talk about in real life. So, am I an attention whore then? Am I just another of those hypocritical self-centred persons who are emotionally sensitive, despite the fact that I don't really associate myself with them much?
Nah, I'm not quite an attention whore, I think. Attention whores draw attention to themselves due to their appearance, and they publicise it rather ostentatiously so as to be able to draw even more attention to themselves. I don't really publicise my blog(s) that much; I just put them in places where people might find information about me, and let them figure out if it is worth it to check out some of the writing that I do.
Creative expression. That's right, that's the thing that I don't seem to be able to work on well lately. Could it be because of the amount of work that I need to do in order to satisfy my academic requirements? Could it be that the time has come where my creativity has dried up and I am all but an empty shell devoted to the skullduggery of the largely captitalistic world? Nay I say, nay. I feel the old creative juices flowing once more, but this time, they are not the same as the youthful indifference I had, nor are they based on the string of rather uncomfortable experiences that I had in the not-too-far-away past.
It is a different sort of creativity, the kind that is fueled by a rather tacit understanding that the world is not as it seems, and that there must be some balance between what is essentially there and what isn't. It is the kind of silent creative power that has lain dormant in my very soul during the time with which I was forced to tuck it away in safety, for fear of the potential repercussions for not conforming.
While I still do not give a rosy endorsement towards blind conformance of the social norm, I have more or less acknowledged that there is no way to live in this society without realising that as a whole there is a need for us to be like sheep in order to keep some semblence of a large working commune of people. Imagine the type and extent of chaos, if all the people are non-conformists—where will all the industries based on trends go? Where will our consumerism-based economical systems go? Where will mass-productoin go? And more importantly, where will our sense of community identity go?
No, I'm not a naysayer. I didn't say that being non-conforming is bad—being completely non-conforming (or conforming for that matter) is not quite a good idea. We are all humans for a reason; the reason being that of the individual. Yet, as humans we are also social, and we are social because it gives us the environment necessary for us to express our individualism. Imagine if society as we knew it broke down to the point where people no longer conform to social norms and laws; the world will be a more dangerous place as people try ways and means to secure their own future with little regard of those who are around them. Where in this case does one exhibit one's individuality then?
As usual, I digress too far from where I started. So, yes, my creativity is back, albeit in a rather changed state. But I'm not complaining; I'm glad that she's back. Creativity is like a sultry mistress who seduces with her sensuality; have too much of her and you'll lead a rather decadent lifestyle, and if you have too little, you will leave feeling somewhat deprived of something which you can't quite seem to put a finger to. That's what creativity is, that's why some folks are willing to sacrifice almost everything to be able to appear to be more creative.
Inspiration, the trigger to raw creativity. Oh, how often does one hear of the phrase uttered by many a student "I need more inspiration!". Where then does this whole inspiration thing come from? I'm not sure about other folks, but inspiration comes to me in the most strangest of times and places—I could be eating a meal when I have some idea on why certain biological constituents are the way they are, or I could be looking at the computer screen and think about some interesting riff that I can try to mimic on my musical instrument later. Different guises, different guises, but things are inspirations only if one knows that they are, or at least, acknowledge that there is the potential of a trigger there. More paradoxical statements? Perhaps, but honestly, I'm not uncomfortable with making statements like these.
Studying logic systems have formalised (and concretised) the concept that I have long suspected: there is a marked difference between the syntax and the semantics of any expressive language. At the abstract level, the syntax of an expressive langauge is just the typographical symbols that we manipulate around to form more strings of symbols; the semantics of the language is really an interpretation applied to the string of symbols that we are looking at.
Why bring up this whole hocus-pocus on expressive languages, one might ask? This relates to why I am not easily squeamish over some rather... graphic descriptions of things that most would find rather... disturbing.
You see, the problem is that I do not often interpret the words that are said directly. Think about it this way, if you see 1/0 as being "illegal" or "not allowed" or even "floating point error", then you have essentially interpreted what I just said directly. I don't do that, so I'm spared of all these potential bugaboos that might occur while manipulating the symbols. As such, overly graphic descriptions of really disturbing scenes do not affect me as much as other folks, simply because I do not immediately try to visualise the semantic meaning of the words that are just said, that does not mean that I do not understand what is being said.
Hmm... this seems to be rather hard to explain properly. I mean, I can hear/see the words being passed on to me, they register in my mind as words, yet I can understand what is being said without resorting to actually visualise what the words are describing. So put simply, the words themselves seem to have developed their own kind of semantic meaning. Notice that this is still consistent, since no one said that there can only be one interpretation of some string of symbols. Ever wondered where did puns/double entendres/innuendo come from?
And now, back to my original thread of thought. It is still a rather serene and cool night (well, it is December 25th now, except that it still isn't snowing...), and I'm sitting here wondering if this is all a dream. Or could it be a figment of my imagination wondering about me wondering if this were a dream.
Maybe I won't ever know if this is a dream or not. But one thing is for sure, I am still here, and not teleporting to somewhere else/getting everything that I want. So I guess I'll have to settle for this to be reality then.
And oh, have a merry Christmas.
Well, the last I checked, I'm still in the same place. So if it were truly a dream, then it is indeed a rather coherent and persistent one then, which is fairly rare if one thinks about it carefully. How can a dream be consistent? The very notion of what constitutes a dream doesn't seem to permit it being wholly consistent; for isn't it in our dreams that we learn of our inner-most desires, our wants, our needs in a way that reality has no way of fulfilling us? Don't we have that dream ever so often, about the material gain that we dream of, or even about the intangible gains that we might have in mind, that is potentially unrealisable in reality?
Already I digress. But, allow me to ramble on, for within these rahter incoherent murmurings one can truly discover the deep-most essence of what makes me me. While writing has always been a form of venting for me, lately I feel that perhaps I might have written a tad too much about myself, to the point that I have become yet another open book with which people can learn more about me.
Oh how paradoxical! On the one hand, I am such a private person, hardly whispering about the goings-on in my life, yet on the other hand here I am, blabbering away about the very things that I would not talk about in real life. So, am I an attention whore then? Am I just another of those hypocritical self-centred persons who are emotionally sensitive, despite the fact that I don't really associate myself with them much?
Nah, I'm not quite an attention whore, I think. Attention whores draw attention to themselves due to their appearance, and they publicise it rather ostentatiously so as to be able to draw even more attention to themselves. I don't really publicise my blog(s) that much; I just put them in places where people might find information about me, and let them figure out if it is worth it to check out some of the writing that I do.
Creative expression. That's right, that's the thing that I don't seem to be able to work on well lately. Could it be because of the amount of work that I need to do in order to satisfy my academic requirements? Could it be that the time has come where my creativity has dried up and I am all but an empty shell devoted to the skullduggery of the largely captitalistic world? Nay I say, nay. I feel the old creative juices flowing once more, but this time, they are not the same as the youthful indifference I had, nor are they based on the string of rather uncomfortable experiences that I had in the not-too-far-away past.
It is a different sort of creativity, the kind that is fueled by a rather tacit understanding that the world is not as it seems, and that there must be some balance between what is essentially there and what isn't. It is the kind of silent creative power that has lain dormant in my very soul during the time with which I was forced to tuck it away in safety, for fear of the potential repercussions for not conforming.
While I still do not give a rosy endorsement towards blind conformance of the social norm, I have more or less acknowledged that there is no way to live in this society without realising that as a whole there is a need for us to be like sheep in order to keep some semblence of a large working commune of people. Imagine the type and extent of chaos, if all the people are non-conformists—where will all the industries based on trends go? Where will our consumerism-based economical systems go? Where will mass-productoin go? And more importantly, where will our sense of community identity go?
No, I'm not a naysayer. I didn't say that being non-conforming is bad—being completely non-conforming (or conforming for that matter) is not quite a good idea. We are all humans for a reason; the reason being that of the individual. Yet, as humans we are also social, and we are social because it gives us the environment necessary for us to express our individualism. Imagine if society as we knew it broke down to the point where people no longer conform to social norms and laws; the world will be a more dangerous place as people try ways and means to secure their own future with little regard of those who are around them. Where in this case does one exhibit one's individuality then?
As usual, I digress too far from where I started. So, yes, my creativity is back, albeit in a rather changed state. But I'm not complaining; I'm glad that she's back. Creativity is like a sultry mistress who seduces with her sensuality; have too much of her and you'll lead a rather decadent lifestyle, and if you have too little, you will leave feeling somewhat deprived of something which you can't quite seem to put a finger to. That's what creativity is, that's why some folks are willing to sacrifice almost everything to be able to appear to be more creative.
Inspiration, the trigger to raw creativity. Oh, how often does one hear of the phrase uttered by many a student "I need more inspiration!". Where then does this whole inspiration thing come from? I'm not sure about other folks, but inspiration comes to me in the most strangest of times and places—I could be eating a meal when I have some idea on why certain biological constituents are the way they are, or I could be looking at the computer screen and think about some interesting riff that I can try to mimic on my musical instrument later. Different guises, different guises, but things are inspirations only if one knows that they are, or at least, acknowledge that there is the potential of a trigger there. More paradoxical statements? Perhaps, but honestly, I'm not uncomfortable with making statements like these.
Studying logic systems have formalised (and concretised) the concept that I have long suspected: there is a marked difference between the syntax and the semantics of any expressive language. At the abstract level, the syntax of an expressive langauge is just the typographical symbols that we manipulate around to form more strings of symbols; the semantics of the language is really an interpretation applied to the string of symbols that we are looking at.
Why bring up this whole hocus-pocus on expressive languages, one might ask? This relates to why I am not easily squeamish over some rather... graphic descriptions of things that most would find rather... disturbing.
You see, the problem is that I do not often interpret the words that are said directly. Think about it this way, if you see 1/0 as being "illegal" or "not allowed" or even "floating point error", then you have essentially interpreted what I just said directly. I don't do that, so I'm spared of all these potential bugaboos that might occur while manipulating the symbols. As such, overly graphic descriptions of really disturbing scenes do not affect me as much as other folks, simply because I do not immediately try to visualise the semantic meaning of the words that are just said, that does not mean that I do not understand what is being said.
Hmm... this seems to be rather hard to explain properly. I mean, I can hear/see the words being passed on to me, they register in my mind as words, yet I can understand what is being said without resorting to actually visualise what the words are describing. So put simply, the words themselves seem to have developed their own kind of semantic meaning. Notice that this is still consistent, since no one said that there can only be one interpretation of some string of symbols. Ever wondered where did puns/double entendres/innuendo come from?
And now, back to my original thread of thought. It is still a rather serene and cool night (well, it is December 25th now, except that it still isn't snowing...), and I'm sitting here wondering if this is all a dream. Or could it be a figment of my imagination wondering about me wondering if this were a dream.
Maybe I won't ever know if this is a dream or not. But one thing is for sure, I am still here, and not teleporting to somewhere else/getting everything that I want. So I guess I'll have to settle for this to be reality then.
And oh, have a merry Christmas.
Megatokyo Trailer?
This. Is. Hilarious:
If you've been following Megatokyo, you can clearly see all the interesting bits of that webcomic appearing in this trailer.
It's amazing!
If you've been following Megatokyo, you can clearly see all the interesting bits of that webcomic appearing in this trailer.
It's amazing!
Monday, December 24, 2007
Battle of the Beams
On a completely different note, read the article on the Battle of the Beams. It's one of the interesting skirmishes that occurred during World War II.
Very interesting episode in our world history...
Very interesting episode in our world history...
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Schizophrenic-weathered Pittsburgh
So today's Saturday over here in schizophrenic-weathered Pittsburgh (as opposed to what the blog date entry says, remember that the dates and times on this blog are still at SGT?). It has been 5 days since my last exam (and a long time since my last entry), and I am feeling a little more relaxed, now that the grades are out and I realise that I didn't do anything remarkably stupid this time around to shoot myself in the foot.
It's interesting when no one is around on campus. The whole campus is so quiet, and one can feel so much serenity in this place where pressure is the norm. The lullness is mildly invigorating, and I make it a point to try to get some sunlight each day by actually going out and walk around; this is to combat that strange affliction known as Seasonal Affective Disorder, aptlly acronymed as "SAD". Not that I would be afflicted by it, but hey, no sense not preventing what can be prevented, since I know what is going on anyways.
In my room, I've been playing my Quake II and Neverwinter Nights, and sometimes I'll just drop by the computer cluster to play a little of Unreal Tournament. Quake II is a fun game that requires a fair amount of vigilance (as is Unreal Tournament), but it helps deal with that rather random need for blood thirsty moments. Neverwinter Nights, however, is a much more refereshing experience. While there is a lot of killing involved too in Neverwinter Nights, there is still an overall storyline/story-arc to deal with, and by virtue of the fact that it is a role-playing game, it is of a different nature as compared to the first person shooters like Quake II and Unreal Tournament.
Speaking of which, lunch these days was interesting. I had lunch at Five guys, Orient Express, Quiznos and even Kiva Han. Lunch is usually a fairly important meal for me, since it is really a combination of both breakfast and lunch itself, aka "brunch". So, I like to eat something heavy for lunch, instead of the instant noodles that I keep cooking for "dinner" or the pepperoni-cheese sandwhich I have as a late night snack (thanks to Alfred for that one... he was leaving but had a suprlus of bread, pepperoni, cheese and mustard, and he kindly gave them to me to sustenance over winter break).
I've watched a couple of movies so far, Pirates of the Carribean: At World's End and Sin City, both of which are quite good. Pirates of the Carribean: At World's End finishes up the whole story of Jack Sparrow, and provides a rather twisted ending to the whole series. Sin City is a marvellous piece. Filmed in neo-noir style, it brings out a nostalgic feeling, bringing one back to the days when the mob ruled supreme and the city streets were unsafe for anyone after sunset. Sin City's use of neo-noir with specific highlights allows the ease of bringing out the violence of the atrocities that occurred in Basin city, without having the fear of making things appear too cheesy, compared to say Kill Bill. It must be noted too that Quentin Tarantino was a guest director for Sin City, so expect excessive violence without the cheesiness of having random red blood-like fluids splattering all over the screen. Sin City was indeed tastefully done.
Speaking of walking around, I spent a good two hours or so in Schenley Park. It's an amazing place, fairly huge, full of trees, and seemingly random paths criss-crossing its landscape. During the non-winter months, Schenley Park is quite spooky, since there is no artificial lighting whatsoever in it, and the trees are full of leaves which blot out the sunlight and other natural light sources; this is especially the case during the night. In the day, however, it is not as bad, but I don't usually have the time to actually visit the Park during the day for most of the academic calendar due to the academic commitments that I need to deal with. So it's been almost a year since I last stepped into Schenley Park, and the sheer rustic feel of it all returned to me in waves of what I can only describe as mild pleasure.
To be with nature once more... that's one thing that I enjoy a fair bit. And no, I'm not some maniacal anti-industrialisation zealot, but sometimes I do feel that there is a need to get back to nature, back to one's roots, in order to maintain a healthy balance of what is important an what is beneficial, something that we often miss as we run through the entire rat race throughout our lives.
I think that I should start pulling my camera out, there's so amny interesting sights and sounds to capture, and perhaps it'd be a good time to spruce this little blog up with some wintery pictures of Pittsburgh. Do note, however, that Pittsburgh is a "weather schizophrenic"—the weather cannot decide if it wants to snow/stay cold or not. Which explains why even in December, I'm still seeing green grass growing all around.
Ridiculous. Heh.
So, until next time...
It's interesting when no one is around on campus. The whole campus is so quiet, and one can feel so much serenity in this place where pressure is the norm. The lullness is mildly invigorating, and I make it a point to try to get some sunlight each day by actually going out and walk around; this is to combat that strange affliction known as Seasonal Affective Disorder, aptlly acronymed as "SAD". Not that I would be afflicted by it, but hey, no sense not preventing what can be prevented, since I know what is going on anyways.
In my room, I've been playing my Quake II and Neverwinter Nights, and sometimes I'll just drop by the computer cluster to play a little of Unreal Tournament. Quake II is a fun game that requires a fair amount of vigilance (as is Unreal Tournament), but it helps deal with that rather random need for blood thirsty moments. Neverwinter Nights, however, is a much more refereshing experience. While there is a lot of killing involved too in Neverwinter Nights, there is still an overall storyline/story-arc to deal with, and by virtue of the fact that it is a role-playing game, it is of a different nature as compared to the first person shooters like Quake II and Unreal Tournament.
Speaking of which, lunch these days was interesting. I had lunch at Five guys, Orient Express, Quiznos and even Kiva Han. Lunch is usually a fairly important meal for me, since it is really a combination of both breakfast and lunch itself, aka "brunch". So, I like to eat something heavy for lunch, instead of the instant noodles that I keep cooking for "dinner" or the pepperoni-cheese sandwhich I have as a late night snack (thanks to Alfred for that one... he was leaving but had a suprlus of bread, pepperoni, cheese and mustard, and he kindly gave them to me to sustenance over winter break).
I've watched a couple of movies so far, Pirates of the Carribean: At World's End and Sin City, both of which are quite good. Pirates of the Carribean: At World's End finishes up the whole story of Jack Sparrow, and provides a rather twisted ending to the whole series. Sin City is a marvellous piece. Filmed in neo-noir style, it brings out a nostalgic feeling, bringing one back to the days when the mob ruled supreme and the city streets were unsafe for anyone after sunset. Sin City's use of neo-noir with specific highlights allows the ease of bringing out the violence of the atrocities that occurred in Basin city, without having the fear of making things appear too cheesy, compared to say Kill Bill. It must be noted too that Quentin Tarantino was a guest director for Sin City, so expect excessive violence without the cheesiness of having random red blood-like fluids splattering all over the screen. Sin City was indeed tastefully done.
Speaking of walking around, I spent a good two hours or so in Schenley Park. It's an amazing place, fairly huge, full of trees, and seemingly random paths criss-crossing its landscape. During the non-winter months, Schenley Park is quite spooky, since there is no artificial lighting whatsoever in it, and the trees are full of leaves which blot out the sunlight and other natural light sources; this is especially the case during the night. In the day, however, it is not as bad, but I don't usually have the time to actually visit the Park during the day for most of the academic calendar due to the academic commitments that I need to deal with. So it's been almost a year since I last stepped into Schenley Park, and the sheer rustic feel of it all returned to me in waves of what I can only describe as mild pleasure.
To be with nature once more... that's one thing that I enjoy a fair bit. And no, I'm not some maniacal anti-industrialisation zealot, but sometimes I do feel that there is a need to get back to nature, back to one's roots, in order to maintain a healthy balance of what is important an what is beneficial, something that we often miss as we run through the entire rat race throughout our lives.
I think that I should start pulling my camera out, there's so amny interesting sights and sounds to capture, and perhaps it'd be a good time to spruce this little blog up with some wintery pictures of Pittsburgh. Do note, however, that Pittsburgh is a "weather schizophrenic"—the weather cannot decide if it wants to snow/stay cold or not. Which explains why even in December, I'm still seeing green grass growing all around.
Ridiculous. Heh.
So, until next time...
Friday, December 14, 2007
No Funeral Wakes for Me Please
Hmm... In reference to this: this sounds morbid, but I figure that when I go, I don't want any fuss.
Just cremate me and scatter my ashes around the seven seas and let me wander about, learning more about the world even in my non-corporeal form.
I don't even want/need a wake. Folks who care don't need some public demonstration of their grief. Folks who don't care don't deserve a place where they turn up to wreak havoc and shed crocodile tears and antagonising those who are already grief-stricken.
I am but a mere speck of a human in the whole universe, so I don't think that there's a need to go through all that ridiculous expense just to "send me on my way". Death is just another phase of life, and since we don't do opulent things during our lives, I don't think it necessary to do opulent things when in death.
Alright, I'll stop here before it gets too morbid.
Just cremate me and scatter my ashes around the seven seas and let me wander about, learning more about the world even in my non-corporeal form.
I don't even want/need a wake. Folks who care don't need some public demonstration of their grief. Folks who don't care don't deserve a place where they turn up to wreak havoc and shed crocodile tears and antagonising those who are already grief-stricken.
I am but a mere speck of a human in the whole universe, so I don't think that there's a need to go through all that ridiculous expense just to "send me on my way". Death is just another phase of life, and since we don't do opulent things during our lives, I don't think it necessary to do opulent things when in death.
Alright, I'll stop here before it gets too morbid.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Hungry...
The time is now! The very first finals for the academic year. No pressure. No pressure.
Heh, who am I kidding? I'm scared as I can be.
Just need to breathe, and probably eat something before going for the exams. Hmm hmm...
*stomach growls*
Heh, who am I kidding? I'm scared as I can be.
Just need to breathe, and probably eat something before going for the exams. Hmm hmm...
*stomach growls*
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Internet Radio + What I Want For Christmas
Internet radio is interesting. I used to want to try this out, but the bandwidth was always something that I was worried about. But considering the fact that these days I'm not really using much of my bandwidth anyways, I decided to relook into this other media form. So, I managed to find some cool classical stations on SHOUTcast, and since I'm using the venerable foobar2000, that meant that it was ridiculously easy for me to actually make use of the SHOUTcast.
Here's a simple computation on the amount of bandwidth required. Suppose we are using 96 kbps quality. This gives us 96000 bits per second, or roughly 12,000 bytes per second. Suppose that we let the player run for about 24 hours, that's roughly 86,400 seconds, which gives us a total yield of 1,036,800,000 bytes or about 989 MiB. So, if the Internet radio is on for 24 hours, then the expected bandwidth consumption is around 1 GiB, which is roughly half of the daily bandwidth that we are limited to. Not too bad, but considering the fact that a more realistic number of hours of play time is roughly 9 hours, the actual number is really around 370 MiB, which I think is completely reasonable.
Besides, I don't really want to buy/leech so many CDs of classical music; only a connoisseur (or scholar or some other classical music buff) will know the difference between one piece and another. To me, the music seems kind of generic in nature, and serves as a useful background music to stimulate pseudo-intellectual thought during the process of revising for my finals.
That all aside, the preparations for finals are really causing a strain in me. I'm feeling so lackadaisical and am actually slowing down in terms of getting the revision underway—could it be that I don't have enough caffeine in my blood to keep myself awake? Or could it be that the adrenaline hasn't quite kicked in yet?
On another note, I have successfully written a working proxy for my lab, which is interesting in its own right, I think. There were several weird bugs with regards to race conditions on the concurrency of read/write locks, but after utilising a semi-novel debugging technique, I was able to quash that bug once and for all, and a live test of flooding it with about 400+ HTTP requests didn't kill my proxy off with weird segfaults or infinite loops. I love concurrency programming—I discovered that I have this weird insight to how and why concurrency works/fails for the code that I'm writing. It's an amazing feeling, I think, to be able to look at concurrent code and to reason about its correctness and think about ways on how to defeat the carefully constructed locking mechanisms to test the robustness of the code.
On yet another note, I think I know what I want for Christmas. A nice girl to hang out with and chit-chat, and maybe to cuddle with and share warmth as the snow drifts all over the place. But of course, we all know that this is only another of those phantasies of mine, which has an extremely low chance of coming true. I'll probably end up wandering about the city of Pittsburgh during that time. Maybe then there will be more interesting updates about the sights (and possibly) the sounds of the city that I've been spending my last year-and-a-half in. Pittsburgh is a really pretty place, and it's quite a pity that I don't really have the chance to explore it well enough, because of all the insane amounts of work that I need to do each day just to keep my neck above the waterline. A period of peace and solitude; it might turn me into a complete nervous wreck, or it could help me really think about things through, and to determine for myself what is it that I want exactly. I guess that it is probably the best time to start getting reaquainted with the side of me that I've been neglecting all these years.
Alright, as usual, I end up with a rather long-ish post/rant here. It is late, and I'd want to catch up on sleep, and so I think that i'll stop here for now. More updates should be coming soon, I think, as and when I find something interesting to talk about and when I'm sufficiently tired from all the studying and need some manner of a distraction.
Here's a simple computation on the amount of bandwidth required. Suppose we are using 96 kbps quality. This gives us 96000 bits per second, or roughly 12,000 bytes per second. Suppose that we let the player run for about 24 hours, that's roughly 86,400 seconds, which gives us a total yield of 1,036,800,000 bytes or about 989 MiB. So, if the Internet radio is on for 24 hours, then the expected bandwidth consumption is around 1 GiB, which is roughly half of the daily bandwidth that we are limited to. Not too bad, but considering the fact that a more realistic number of hours of play time is roughly 9 hours, the actual number is really around 370 MiB, which I think is completely reasonable.
Besides, I don't really want to buy/leech so many CDs of classical music; only a connoisseur (or scholar or some other classical music buff) will know the difference between one piece and another. To me, the music seems kind of generic in nature, and serves as a useful background music to stimulate pseudo-intellectual thought during the process of revising for my finals.
That all aside, the preparations for finals are really causing a strain in me. I'm feeling so lackadaisical and am actually slowing down in terms of getting the revision underway—could it be that I don't have enough caffeine in my blood to keep myself awake? Or could it be that the adrenaline hasn't quite kicked in yet?
On another note, I have successfully written a working proxy for my lab, which is interesting in its own right, I think. There were several weird bugs with regards to race conditions on the concurrency of read/write locks, but after utilising a semi-novel debugging technique, I was able to quash that bug once and for all, and a live test of flooding it with about 400+ HTTP requests didn't kill my proxy off with weird segfaults or infinite loops. I love concurrency programming—I discovered that I have this weird insight to how and why concurrency works/fails for the code that I'm writing. It's an amazing feeling, I think, to be able to look at concurrent code and to reason about its correctness and think about ways on how to defeat the carefully constructed locking mechanisms to test the robustness of the code.
On yet another note, I think I know what I want for Christmas. A nice girl to hang out with and chit-chat, and maybe to cuddle with and share warmth as the snow drifts all over the place. But of course, we all know that this is only another of those phantasies of mine, which has an extremely low chance of coming true. I'll probably end up wandering about the city of Pittsburgh during that time. Maybe then there will be more interesting updates about the sights (and possibly) the sounds of the city that I've been spending my last year-and-a-half in. Pittsburgh is a really pretty place, and it's quite a pity that I don't really have the chance to explore it well enough, because of all the insane amounts of work that I need to do each day just to keep my neck above the waterline. A period of peace and solitude; it might turn me into a complete nervous wreck, or it could help me really think about things through, and to determine for myself what is it that I want exactly. I guess that it is probably the best time to start getting reaquainted with the side of me that I've been neglecting all these years.
Alright, as usual, I end up with a rather long-ish post/rant here. It is late, and I'd want to catch up on sleep, and so I think that i'll stop here for now. More updates should be coming soon, I think, as and when I find something interesting to talk about and when I'm sufficiently tired from all the studying and need some manner of a distraction.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Hang-man Stick Figure (No More)
[Ed: There used to be a picture here, but the random visits regarding it was starting to annoy me and so that picture is now gone.]
At times, this is how I feel, like a dead person trying to make some sense of a pretty complicated life. It's hard to comprehend why so, really, but then again, I try little to comprehend things, considering the fact that at this time, all I'm interested in is to not accidentally shoot myself in the foot.
I'm fearful of the future. I feel that I no longer have any control over the future, and that everything is going to be under the nebulous control of some higher being/corporation/society. I fear for the loss of my individuality—it has already begun. There are so many things that I fear about, and one of the things that most probably affects me the most at this point in time will be the finals itself. Naturally, I need to be sufficiently well-prepared for this final phase of the semester; I just can't help but feel dread as the days pass by and my own finals start to come ever so closer. The mounting pressure is tremendous, and sometimes I wonder with incredulity how I managed to survive trauma after trauma with a strange form of tenacity.
Needless to say, it is really in the depths of the night when I am writing all these. I cannot help but write about what first comes to mind under such a silent and foreboding environment. I still maintain that writing here is akin to shouting down a really deep and dark hole, where sounds are made but no one is certain if anyone has heard any of what was said.
I feel grossly inadequate to be in this society, and to look for the mystical one. I'm more or less resigned to my fate of work, pain, loneliness, and sadness. Is there anything that I can do about it? Maybe, but now's not the time, perhaps. I think I have gotten into more quarrels and arguments over this with Xiaolu than anything else that I ever had.
I'm tired. Tired me is tired. So many things to worry about, so many things to be confused about. Perhaps the concept of living and dying is no longer as well-defined as before. Perhaps my sense of reality has been so badly warped that I am no longer thinking straight. Perhaps, I'm just too weary from the finals beatdown. Perhaps... there are too many perhaps which are occurring in my life, which is something that I am not used to, for I used to be able to plan out my life ahead by at least a few years.
Now, I just live by the minute, always wondering if the minute that just passed was the last that i'd ever have.
At times, this is how I feel, like a dead person trying to make some sense of a pretty complicated life. It's hard to comprehend why so, really, but then again, I try little to comprehend things, considering the fact that at this time, all I'm interested in is to not accidentally shoot myself in the foot.
I'm fearful of the future. I feel that I no longer have any control over the future, and that everything is going to be under the nebulous control of some higher being/corporation/society. I fear for the loss of my individuality—it has already begun. There are so many things that I fear about, and one of the things that most probably affects me the most at this point in time will be the finals itself. Naturally, I need to be sufficiently well-prepared for this final phase of the semester; I just can't help but feel dread as the days pass by and my own finals start to come ever so closer. The mounting pressure is tremendous, and sometimes I wonder with incredulity how I managed to survive trauma after trauma with a strange form of tenacity.
Needless to say, it is really in the depths of the night when I am writing all these. I cannot help but write about what first comes to mind under such a silent and foreboding environment. I still maintain that writing here is akin to shouting down a really deep and dark hole, where sounds are made but no one is certain if anyone has heard any of what was said.
I feel grossly inadequate to be in this society, and to look for the mystical one. I'm more or less resigned to my fate of work, pain, loneliness, and sadness. Is there anything that I can do about it? Maybe, but now's not the time, perhaps. I think I have gotten into more quarrels and arguments over this with Xiaolu than anything else that I ever had.
I'm tired. Tired me is tired. So many things to worry about, so many things to be confused about. Perhaps the concept of living and dying is no longer as well-defined as before. Perhaps my sense of reality has been so badly warped that I am no longer thinking straight. Perhaps, I'm just too weary from the finals beatdown. Perhaps... there are too many perhaps which are occurring in my life, which is something that I am not used to, for I used to be able to plan out my life ahead by at least a few years.
Now, I just live by the minute, always wondering if the minute that just passed was the last that i'd ever have.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Ouran High School Host Club
I'm still a sucker for romantic comedies, I guess. This time, it is the Ouran High School Host Club. It's a most interesting anime that I've seen so far, as compared to the rather dismal feel of Xenosaga: The Animation. I'll skip the whole summary bit and just talk about my feelings about the anime.
In a way, the Ouran High School Host Club is much like the fun club that I'd dream of joining but would never have the guts to do so. I mean, I'm just not that confident with myself in terms of doing things that "please" people. I'm usually fairly stiff, I guess, and am often "awkward" with people. It is such a contradictory oxymoron; I keep saying that I'm bad socially, yet at the same time, most of how I got to be who I am, is based somewhat on socialising. It is a really weird thing to wonder about, but seriously, I don't know why I'm even having problems like that in the first place—it makes no sense whatsoever.
This. Is. Frustrating. Somewhat.
So, at this point in time, it is a Friday, and also the last day of classes. Which means that most folks are out there partying like there's no tomorrow. Which means that there's a really weird acute discomfort. Irritating somewhat... maybe I'll write more later. I think I'm getting a little too distracted by some JS Bach concertos on the harpsichord now.
In a way, the Ouran High School Host Club is much like the fun club that I'd dream of joining but would never have the guts to do so. I mean, I'm just not that confident with myself in terms of doing things that "please" people. I'm usually fairly stiff, I guess, and am often "awkward" with people. It is such a contradictory oxymoron; I keep saying that I'm bad socially, yet at the same time, most of how I got to be who I am, is based somewhat on socialising. It is a really weird thing to wonder about, but seriously, I don't know why I'm even having problems like that in the first place—it makes no sense whatsoever.
This. Is. Frustrating. Somewhat.
So, at this point in time, it is a Friday, and also the last day of classes. Which means that most folks are out there partying like there's no tomorrow. Which means that there's a really weird acute discomfort. Irritating somewhat... maybe I'll write more later. I think I'm getting a little too distracted by some JS Bach concertos on the harpsichord now.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Snow?
And finally, a shot of the Morewood Courtyard as seen through my dorm room window.
And yes, it is snowing. Not as pretty as this, but still pretty enough for now. If this holds up, I think that I might be able to get a really pretty night shot of it, and maybe even the wonderful night shots of the snow/ice at night when the lights just twinkle on the frozen snow.
Amazingly beautiful stuff. I could live like this forever.
And yes, it is snowing. Not as pretty as this, but still pretty enough for now. If this holds up, I think that I might be able to get a really pretty night shot of it, and maybe even the wonderful night shots of the snow/ice at night when the lights just twinkle on the frozen snow.Amazingly beautiful stuff. I could live like this forever.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Finals Crunchdown
Ah... the finals crunchdown, the start of the [temporary] end. Where all the projects are due on the last day of class, where all the papers need to be completed by then, where all the stresses over the whole semester come crashing down once more, where one's nightmares of material from the earlier part of the class come back to haunt one.
Throw in a completely messy weather pattern and you'd get the set-up for a great [and complete] stress-rush crash.
It is strange, that even in the start of this chaotic times, I am still sitting here [somewhat] calmly, and still typing out this entry. Could it be that I'm resigned to my fate? Or could it be that I suddenly have some hidden resource within me that I am drawing upon to cope with the stresses?
Or could it just be that I am currently suffering from a cold and recovery is of the utmost importance as opposed to anything else? Gee I have no clue whatsoever.
So anyway, the finals crunch down have started, and honestly, I am getting a little worried for my logic class. I should be able to do fine on probability and the two other programming-related classes, but I'm really terrified for my logic finals. I seem to be losing that ability to do abstract theoretical mathematics, which is quite worrying, considering the fact that I dabbled in math way before I did anything in computer science. And this is worrying because I have at least another class (Real Analysis) which involves theoretical math, as opposed to the "concrete" math of combinatorics and graph theory as applied in programming.
Maybe I'm so screwed... I don't know. Just need to put in the effort and make sure that I don't kill myself unnecessarily, like last semester... Having almost no buffer is probably the worst thing that I can ever imagine, and the pressure associated with this is ridiculously high.
Alright, back to work for now.
Throw in a completely messy weather pattern and you'd get the set-up for a great [and complete] stress-rush crash.
It is strange, that even in the start of this chaotic times, I am still sitting here [somewhat] calmly, and still typing out this entry. Could it be that I'm resigned to my fate? Or could it be that I suddenly have some hidden resource within me that I am drawing upon to cope with the stresses?
Or could it just be that I am currently suffering from a cold and recovery is of the utmost importance as opposed to anything else? Gee I have no clue whatsoever.
So anyway, the finals crunch down have started, and honestly, I am getting a little worried for my logic class. I should be able to do fine on probability and the two other programming-related classes, but I'm really terrified for my logic finals. I seem to be losing that ability to do abstract theoretical mathematics, which is quite worrying, considering the fact that I dabbled in math way before I did anything in computer science. And this is worrying because I have at least another class (Real Analysis) which involves theoretical math, as opposed to the "concrete" math of combinatorics and graph theory as applied in programming.
Maybe I'm so screwed... I don't know. Just need to put in the effort and make sure that I don't kill myself unnecessarily, like last semester... Having almost no buffer is probably the worst thing that I can ever imagine, and the pressure associated with this is ridiculously high.
Alright, back to work for now.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Reliance
Reliance on people... it is such a weakness. Some folks rely on other folks to help them in their work, while others (like me) rely on others to help keep their sanity in check. The problem with reliance, is that one can easily get lost if the people that one relies on are not available for whatever reason.
One reason why I keep keeping to myself, is that I know that folks will never always be around when you need them the most. Friends, family, whatever; the Infamous Law of Bad Things will always assure that one will never be able to obtain the help that one needs when one needs it the most. People can be trusted—I'm not saying they cannot. But everyone has his/her own life to lead, and thus cannot always be around all the time. Even friends can get sick of each other, lovers get a little too tired and feeling to constrained, and spouses have their bad argument days—it is all about personal space.
Contrary to popular belief, I actually like company. Not a huge massive and boisterous group though... a small tight-knit one is excellent. I like a group where I know that I can depend on, a group where I can chill and be silly with, a group that I need not put on a mask all the time. Unfortunately, this is just an idealism—very few people want such a tight-knit group, and for those who might want so, they might not like who I am.
And so when the various groups start to ostracise me, it hurts me deeply and I alter myself accordingly, ever lowering my expectations with people, further driving myself away from folks...
In short, most of my troubles come about because of unrealistic expectations of myself. I should take this into consideration when I'm doing things from now on.
One reason why I keep keeping to myself, is that I know that folks will never always be around when you need them the most. Friends, family, whatever; the Infamous Law of Bad Things will always assure that one will never be able to obtain the help that one needs when one needs it the most. People can be trusted—I'm not saying they cannot. But everyone has his/her own life to lead, and thus cannot always be around all the time. Even friends can get sick of each other, lovers get a little too tired and feeling to constrained, and spouses have their bad argument days—it is all about personal space.
Contrary to popular belief, I actually like company. Not a huge massive and boisterous group though... a small tight-knit one is excellent. I like a group where I know that I can depend on, a group where I can chill and be silly with, a group that I need not put on a mask all the time. Unfortunately, this is just an idealism—very few people want such a tight-knit group, and for those who might want so, they might not like who I am.
And so when the various groups start to ostracise me, it hurts me deeply and I alter myself accordingly, ever lowering my expectations with people, further driving myself away from folks...
In short, most of my troubles come about because of unrealistic expectations of myself. I should take this into consideration when I'm doing things from now on.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Programming and Other Updates
After almost a decade of programming computers, I must say that I kind of miss the fun that I had with the whole programming thing ever since I went into the competitive programming circuit. Now that I've retired from the programming circuit, and am actually writing non-trivial and interesting programs (like a memory manager, a shell and a proxy among other things), I realise that I missed that fun so much. The fun of staying up at odd hours of the day, writing code in a paradoxical juxtaposition of concentration and relaxation, the sudden clarity in the way the code is supposed to look like even without thinking too much—ah, I clearly missed this feeling. And now, as I am slowly putting together my multi-threaded web proxy program, I find that the old feelings are all coming back again. I'm... actually at a loss of words somewhat when I'm trying to describe the delight that I have in the whole exercise.
At least, I'm writing programs that actually do something useful, not those silly Java programs that do frivolous things like performing single-source shortest path computations. I realise that at the end of the day, I'm pretty much still a hacker who loves systems programming. All those new-fangled and flashy programming languages never did appeal to me much; I love to just write my code in C, which is simple and [somewhat] elegant for the tasks at hand. Firing up vim in an xterm set with the smallest possible fonts which maintain at least 160 characters of width and yet still visible a good 4 feet away, the light tap-tap on the keyboard when I write line after line of working code with little/no debugging required—this is pure bliss.
Next semester will be much more fun, since I'm going to do a course on Parallel Computer Architectures and Programming. Messing around with multi-core processors on supercomputers and hypercomputers just make me drool with anticipation. You can probably say that this is a hacker's wet dream come true. While most of the other folks want to take O/S, I actually prefer doing the course on parallel architectures. Apart from the obvious applicability of that course (how often does one have to write an operating system from scratch?), I find that it is much more interesting as a whole as compared to writing an operating system for the nuances and quirks of a particular [complicated] microprocessor. I'd love to do kernel hacking, but definitely not under the contraints of time and for credit—it is suicidal.
Oh that aside, remember this problem? So Atari support replied today with the 3 correct CD keys. Which means that my Neverwinter Nights installation is working now. Hurray~! But first, I need to finish quite a fair bit of homework before I can even sit down and try it out.
Hmm... there's a Kiltie Band Christmas Concert on Thursday. And I think I'm the only guy in the flute section. No pressure, I'm a decent flutist hahahaha... Alright, it is getting late, and I'd like to catch up on some rest before working on even more homework.
Good night/day (depending on where you are).
At least, I'm writing programs that actually do something useful, not those silly Java programs that do frivolous things like performing single-source shortest path computations. I realise that at the end of the day, I'm pretty much still a hacker who loves systems programming. All those new-fangled and flashy programming languages never did appeal to me much; I love to just write my code in C, which is simple and [somewhat] elegant for the tasks at hand. Firing up vim in an xterm set with the smallest possible fonts which maintain at least 160 characters of width and yet still visible a good 4 feet away, the light tap-tap on the keyboard when I write line after line of working code with little/no debugging required—this is pure bliss.
Next semester will be much more fun, since I'm going to do a course on Parallel Computer Architectures and Programming. Messing around with multi-core processors on supercomputers and hypercomputers just make me drool with anticipation. You can probably say that this is a hacker's wet dream come true. While most of the other folks want to take O/S, I actually prefer doing the course on parallel architectures. Apart from the obvious applicability of that course (how often does one have to write an operating system from scratch?), I find that it is much more interesting as a whole as compared to writing an operating system for the nuances and quirks of a particular [complicated] microprocessor. I'd love to do kernel hacking, but definitely not under the contraints of time and for credit—it is suicidal.
Oh that aside, remember this problem? So Atari support replied today with the 3 correct CD keys. Which means that my Neverwinter Nights installation is working now. Hurray~! But first, I need to finish quite a fair bit of homework before I can even sit down and try it out.
Hmm... there's a Kiltie Band Christmas Concert on Thursday. And I think I'm the only guy in the flute section. No pressure, I'm a decent flutist hahahaha... Alright, it is getting late, and I'd like to catch up on some rest before working on even more homework.
Good night/day (depending on where you are).
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Waiver of Course Requirements
Oh wow, this really random essay that I wrote managed to allow me to skip past 6 Chinese language classes (and jump off to level 400 classes).
The offer to take up Introduction to Classical Chinese is very tempting...
The offer to take up Introduction to Classical Chinese is very tempting...
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
When Life is a Markov Chain
Markov chains are an amazing type of weighted digraph. They are immensely useful in the modelling of complex systems, and are very well used throughout the field for that purpose. I had a taste of how to use Markov chains to model real-world behaviour, and even till now, I'm amazed at how such a simple idea can become such a powerful modelling technique.
The key idea behind the Markov chain lies in a system having the "Markovian property"; this just means that the probability of transiting to the next state is independent of the states with which the system had been into before. This interesting property (or assumption) is one that makes the problem of computing the stationary distribution (set of the proportions of total time that a system is in any particular state) tractable.
The stationary distribution is important when dealing with Markov chains as it allows us to compute the long-term behaviour of a system. For example, if the Markov chain models a queue where the states are just the number of jobs in the queue, then we have a means of determining what the proportion of time of the server is in the "idle" state, as well as being in the "busy" or even "overloaded" states.
But, is life a Markov chain? Are we really able to model our lives as some form of memory-less system of [in-]finitely many discrete states? What if life were a Markov chain? Does this mean that what we did before does not contribute to the probability of what we will end up doing?
If life were a Markov chain, then it would appear that whatever we do next does not rely on whatever we did earlier. In a small way, this can be true. Often, one hears of people who have "re-made" themselves when they are in a new environment, simply by capitalising on the fact that the people in the new environment do not know about their past, and working from there to rebuild a new identity. But in general, it is probably not true that life can be modelled as a Markov chain, or at least, a Markov chain whose stationary distribution is defined. This is because there are states in our lives that we just cannot return to, like how we cannot return to childhood after reaching adult-hood. Using the terms in dealing with Markov chains, we realise that if a stationary distribution exists, then the probability that we stay in the state of being a child over a long period of time is as good as 0. There are also times when we keep alternating between states, albeit in a not-so time independet way. These things hamper a perfect modelling based on the model of Markov chains.
There is an old saying, that "you are because of what you were, and you are determines what you will be"; this is the cause and effect relationship between past, present and future. It is a relatively profound concept, which hints that perhaps one's future isn't really as unpredictable is it seems to be. Yet at the same time, it embodies the possibility of one being able to change one's present to be able to affect the future. I think that this bipolar nature of the interpretation of the statement reflects itself in the form of the pessimism and optimism attitudes respectively. A pessimist will observe that since one's past implies one's present, and that one's present implies one's future, then by transitivity of the implication, one's past implies one's future and thus there's nothing that one can do about it. An optimist will look at it and realise that the present is the now, and that the two "presents" in the saying are not necessarily the same; one's past brings us to one's present, but one can alter one's present to become one's future.
Pessimism and optimism, transitivity of implication, and Markov chains. Why do I suddenly bring this up? Because I can. Most of the knowledge that humans as a whole generate are so because we want to understand what is going on in the world; we want to know about our past, and how to deal with the future. In so many fields of human knowledge, we find that there is heavy reliance on past data and current understanding to try to determine what the future might bring along. Even for a field as much about the past as history, we find that it is in actuality a post-mortem analysis of what people had done to understand why they did what they did in order to predict what can happen in the future, given similar circumstances and slightly more information. This, in its own challenges the idea of the Markov chain, as well as transitivity of implication, and also questions one's predictions based on one's predisposition towards pessimism or optimism.
So am I a pessimist or optimist? I think that it is fairly clear which side I lean towards; I'm cautiously optimistic, but at the same time maintaining an almost deliberate pessimism, in the belief that if I expect the worst and get something good instead, I would have done well.
The key idea behind the Markov chain lies in a system having the "Markovian property"; this just means that the probability of transiting to the next state is independent of the states with which the system had been into before. This interesting property (or assumption) is one that makes the problem of computing the stationary distribution (set of the proportions of total time that a system is in any particular state) tractable.
The stationary distribution is important when dealing with Markov chains as it allows us to compute the long-term behaviour of a system. For example, if the Markov chain models a queue where the states are just the number of jobs in the queue, then we have a means of determining what the proportion of time of the server is in the "idle" state, as well as being in the "busy" or even "overloaded" states.
But, is life a Markov chain? Are we really able to model our lives as some form of memory-less system of [in-]finitely many discrete states? What if life were a Markov chain? Does this mean that what we did before does not contribute to the probability of what we will end up doing?
If life were a Markov chain, then it would appear that whatever we do next does not rely on whatever we did earlier. In a small way, this can be true. Often, one hears of people who have "re-made" themselves when they are in a new environment, simply by capitalising on the fact that the people in the new environment do not know about their past, and working from there to rebuild a new identity. But in general, it is probably not true that life can be modelled as a Markov chain, or at least, a Markov chain whose stationary distribution is defined. This is because there are states in our lives that we just cannot return to, like how we cannot return to childhood after reaching adult-hood. Using the terms in dealing with Markov chains, we realise that if a stationary distribution exists, then the probability that we stay in the state of being a child over a long period of time is as good as 0. There are also times when we keep alternating between states, albeit in a not-so time independet way. These things hamper a perfect modelling based on the model of Markov chains.
There is an old saying, that "you are because of what you were, and you are determines what you will be"; this is the cause and effect relationship between past, present and future. It is a relatively profound concept, which hints that perhaps one's future isn't really as unpredictable is it seems to be. Yet at the same time, it embodies the possibility of one being able to change one's present to be able to affect the future. I think that this bipolar nature of the interpretation of the statement reflects itself in the form of the pessimism and optimism attitudes respectively. A pessimist will observe that since one's past implies one's present, and that one's present implies one's future, then by transitivity of the implication, one's past implies one's future and thus there's nothing that one can do about it. An optimist will look at it and realise that the present is the now, and that the two "presents" in the saying are not necessarily the same; one's past brings us to one's present, but one can alter one's present to become one's future.
Pessimism and optimism, transitivity of implication, and Markov chains. Why do I suddenly bring this up? Because I can. Most of the knowledge that humans as a whole generate are so because we want to understand what is going on in the world; we want to know about our past, and how to deal with the future. In so many fields of human knowledge, we find that there is heavy reliance on past data and current understanding to try to determine what the future might bring along. Even for a field as much about the past as history, we find that it is in actuality a post-mortem analysis of what people had done to understand why they did what they did in order to predict what can happen in the future, given similar circumstances and slightly more information. This, in its own challenges the idea of the Markov chain, as well as transitivity of implication, and also questions one's predictions based on one's predisposition towards pessimism or optimism.
So am I a pessimist or optimist? I think that it is fairly clear which side I lean towards; I'm cautiously optimistic, but at the same time maintaining an almost deliberate pessimism, in the belief that if I expect the worst and get something good instead, I would have done well.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Pensievely Sitting In A Corner (Complete)
The whole series of 3 panels in the correct order:
And so concludes the run of an experiment. It feels strange to be writing here once again, after leaving it untouched for the better part of 2 weeks. I feel so much better now, now that some of the issues are being worked out and resolution is expected to be favourable.
Heheheh... I know that I'm not among the best of artists, and the run of the 3-panel comic of Pensively Sitting In A Corner is probably not something that is of ridiculously decent quality. Eventually, I'd like to put up a site where I can sketch out stories that float around nebulously in my head. Not that I don't like writing any more, but that it is probably more fun to have a little variety of sorts. Which means that the next time this blog is being updated, there might be random hand-sketched comics instead of just a regular post.
And now for some updates. The last few days were fairly therapeutic, since it was the thanksgiving weekend, which meant that the campus was practically devoid of people for a good 5 days or so. I spent most of the time working on homework, playing the flute/ocarina/soprano saxophone, programming a little, reading some and getting out of the dorm to actually do stuff, like shopping.
On the shopping trip on Black Friday, I managed to pick up a copy of Neverwinter Nights Diamond Edition, which consisted of the main game and 3 other expansion packs. In an earlier post, I mentioned about playing the game over winter break—it was my friend's copy at his place. This time, I'm not going to be at his place over winter, and since he would generally be bored over the break, we decided to play this game online together, and since the Diamond Edition was retailing at about USD 20 (approximately SGD 30), it was a pretty good deal. The only bugaboo was that the manual which contained the CD-Keys for each of the three big components was printed wrongly (all identical), which meant that I couldn't start playing it right away. I've already contacted the customer support via their online request, and I hope that they will give me what I need soon.
Apart from the shopping, I managed to finish the anime series of 涼宮ハルヒの憂鬱 (romaji: Suzumiya Haruhi no Yūutsu, English: The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya). One of the characters that I like a lot is 長門 有希 (romaji: Nagato Yuki, English: Yuki Nagato). Here's what Wikipedia says about her personality:
Yes, I think I like cute geeky girls. I must admit that I'm a sucker for those kinds. Unfortunately, they are relatively hard to come by, particularly from where I come from. I mean, how many girls actually want to be identified as being geeky? It is fairly counter-cultural to the usual imbued social rules. So when I meet one, I'll definitely try to snare her and not let her go. (=
Everything else aside, I'd say that the thanksgiving weekend was fairly restful. No strange feelings of loneliness and other random crap like that. Which is a good thing. This means that I'm slowly growing into an adult.
Maybe more rants some other time. As it is, the local time now is like... 3am. I need my sleep, otherwise I can't do my homework.
Until next time...
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
And so concludes the run of an experiment. It feels strange to be writing here once again, after leaving it untouched for the better part of 2 weeks. I feel so much better now, now that some of the issues are being worked out and resolution is expected to be favourable.
Heheheh... I know that I'm not among the best of artists, and the run of the 3-panel comic of Pensively Sitting In A Corner is probably not something that is of ridiculously decent quality. Eventually, I'd like to put up a site where I can sketch out stories that float around nebulously in my head. Not that I don't like writing any more, but that it is probably more fun to have a little variety of sorts. Which means that the next time this blog is being updated, there might be random hand-sketched comics instead of just a regular post.
And now for some updates. The last few days were fairly therapeutic, since it was the thanksgiving weekend, which meant that the campus was practically devoid of people for a good 5 days or so. I spent most of the time working on homework, playing the flute/ocarina/soprano saxophone, programming a little, reading some and getting out of the dorm to actually do stuff, like shopping.
On the shopping trip on Black Friday, I managed to pick up a copy of Neverwinter Nights Diamond Edition, which consisted of the main game and 3 other expansion packs. In an earlier post, I mentioned about playing the game over winter break—it was my friend's copy at his place. This time, I'm not going to be at his place over winter, and since he would generally be bored over the break, we decided to play this game online together, and since the Diamond Edition was retailing at about USD 20 (approximately SGD 30), it was a pretty good deal. The only bugaboo was that the manual which contained the CD-Keys for each of the three big components was printed wrongly (all identical), which meant that I couldn't start playing it right away. I've already contacted the customer support via their online request, and I hope that they will give me what I need soon.
Apart from the shopping, I managed to finish the anime series of 涼宮ハルヒの憂鬱 (romaji: Suzumiya Haruhi no Yūutsu, English: The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya). One of the characters that I like a lot is 長門 有希 (romaji: Nagato Yuki, English: Yuki Nagato). Here's what Wikipedia says about her personality:
Yuki has a very stoic and introverted personality, preferring simple body language rather than speaking. When prompted to speak, she does so in a very concise manner, always speaking in a monotone and displaying a dispassionate complexion. She thinks very rationally, and finds it difficult to communicate with normal humans due to her intelligence and lack of empathy. She enjoys reading, and is seen reading a book in the majority of her appearances. As the series continues, she develops a sense of humor, although her unchanging facial expressions make it near-impossible to discern whether she is joking or not. Despite her reserved manner, she is reliable and trustworthy, resulting in Kyon trusting her more than other members of the SOS Brigade.I can identify a lot with her personality, though I must admit that I'm not some "human interface" or that I'm an alien (that'd be jsherman, but it is an in-joke that only the CS-sophomores know). For some reason, I found her really cute/attractive, especially when she dons her dark wizard outfit and play on the guitar.
Yes, I think I like cute geeky girls. I must admit that I'm a sucker for those kinds. Unfortunately, they are relatively hard to come by, particularly from where I come from. I mean, how many girls actually want to be identified as being geeky? It is fairly counter-cultural to the usual imbued social rules. So when I meet one, I'll definitely try to snare her and not let her go. (=
Everything else aside, I'd say that the thanksgiving weekend was fairly restful. No strange feelings of loneliness and other random crap like that. Which is a good thing. This means that I'm slowly growing into an adult.
Maybe more rants some other time. As it is, the local time now is like... 3am. I need my sleep, otherwise I can't do my homework.
Until next time...
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Some... Issues...
There are so many... issues that I need to think about. As such, I won't be updating this as frequently as I might want to.
There're some new things that I'd like to try, but as at now, it's not a good idea to talk about them.
Please be patient with me, my favoured readers.
Until next time.
There're some new things that I'd like to try, but as at now, it's not a good idea to talk about them.
Please be patient with me, my favoured readers.
Until next time.
Monday, November 05, 2007
Phantasies Yet Again
Again, in here I sit, another phantasy playing out to its very final end—sadness and dejection. I should seriously stop thinking about things... it seems the each time I do, I end up hurting myself more and more. Maybe it is indeed in my deed to be walking alone on the streets, watching people getting all lovey-dovey and stuff, forever tormented by the fact that I am, essentially, alone.
Alone. It's a strange word there. You look at it, and you feel so sorry for it. Alone. It looks almost like how it sounds—alone.
My face, my actions, seem so farcical. It seems that all my life, I'd been an actor. I know I'm not good at a lot of things, but I keep on acting that I do, and sooner or later, I actually started to believe that I could do them, and then I start to convince people that I am, indeed able to do what I claim to do. But in reality, am I really that good? Am I really as wonderful as I think myself out to be? Or am I part of a huge delusion which will result in me losing everything in the end, including my very life?
*sigh*
This is starting to frustrate me some. To be forever surrounded by people who are—people, while I just sit in the corner and watch on. Last Saturday, there was a SSA KTV/Games Nite held in the West Wing TV Lounge. I went there, of course, and ended up sitting on the sidelines yet again. And as usual, I was only recognised when they couldn't get the KTV system up to run (because they brought in a DVD player, as opposed to a DVD/VCD Karaoke Player). So I helped to set up the system. The system set up was kind of fun, but after I was done, I was promptly forgotten again. Feeling somewhat sad/irritated/fed-up, I just picked one song to sing, and then dallying for a little, I left for a walk in the cold.
Ostracizing. The very epitome of my displeasure. Why do people like to ostracize me? Am I really that hard of a person to talk to? Am I just some freak-head people turn to only when they have problems, and once done, only to be cast aside like spoilt food? The pain and anguish from this is my ruination.
*sigh*
It's so hard to be me. I try my best, but almost never get rewarded. I guess I should just keep on grinding on the grindstone and work more. Maybe with more work, I can bury away the discomfort and sadness that I have within me.
Alone. It's a strange word there. You look at it, and you feel so sorry for it. Alone. It looks almost like how it sounds—alone.
My face, my actions, seem so farcical. It seems that all my life, I'd been an actor. I know I'm not good at a lot of things, but I keep on acting that I do, and sooner or later, I actually started to believe that I could do them, and then I start to convince people that I am, indeed able to do what I claim to do. But in reality, am I really that good? Am I really as wonderful as I think myself out to be? Or am I part of a huge delusion which will result in me losing everything in the end, including my very life?
*sigh*
This is starting to frustrate me some. To be forever surrounded by people who are—people, while I just sit in the corner and watch on. Last Saturday, there was a SSA KTV/Games Nite held in the West Wing TV Lounge. I went there, of course, and ended up sitting on the sidelines yet again. And as usual, I was only recognised when they couldn't get the KTV system up to run (because they brought in a DVD player, as opposed to a DVD/VCD Karaoke Player). So I helped to set up the system. The system set up was kind of fun, but after I was done, I was promptly forgotten again. Feeling somewhat sad/irritated/fed-up, I just picked one song to sing, and then dallying for a little, I left for a walk in the cold.
Ostracizing. The very epitome of my displeasure. Why do people like to ostracize me? Am I really that hard of a person to talk to? Am I just some freak-head people turn to only when they have problems, and once done, only to be cast aside like spoilt food? The pain and anguish from this is my ruination.
*sigh*
It's so hard to be me. I try my best, but almost never get rewarded. I guess I should just keep on grinding on the grindstone and work more. Maybe with more work, I can bury away the discomfort and sadness that I have within me.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
malloc() Lab is Finally Here
I like taking long walks in the cold outside, especially when it is dark. It is a most wondrous feeling, to be able to meld into the shadows and enjoy the cool winds blowing into my face. I'm usually feeling hot, and so I always love the cold weather (no, I don't actually perspire that much, so I don't actually stink).
It is amazing how a nice walk can help clear the mind. This, with the fact that I actually have a nice portable recorder with me, which means that I can easily record my thoughts and ideas as and when I have them, and can later transcribe them into a more useable form.
I figure, if I need to use technology to help myself, I might as well make it completely and absolutely workable.
In other news, this weekend is simultaneously the most stressful and relaxing weekend so far. It's stressful because the hardest lab of my Introduction to Computer Systems course (the malloc() lab) is finally here. In case you were wondering, this lab just wants us to write a dynamic memory allocator. I've a few ideas on how to do it, and now it is just the writing of the code that is going to consume the most time.
Oh yeah, the weekend is the most relaxing so far, simply because I've already completed my ML code for my other programming-based class. Just lying in the horizon are my Logic assignments, as well as my Probability and Computing homework. That and a whole bunch of administrative mumbo-jumbo that I need to settle.
Alright, enough of random talking. I need to get back to work.
[Ed: If you are here looking for solutions to malloc() lab, shame on you. Go do the thinking yourself and learn instead of hitting the internet for answers.]
It is amazing how a nice walk can help clear the mind. This, with the fact that I actually have a nice portable recorder with me, which means that I can easily record my thoughts and ideas as and when I have them, and can later transcribe them into a more useable form.
I figure, if I need to use technology to help myself, I might as well make it completely and absolutely workable.
In other news, this weekend is simultaneously the most stressful and relaxing weekend so far. It's stressful because the hardest lab of my Introduction to Computer Systems course (the malloc() lab) is finally here. In case you were wondering, this lab just wants us to write a dynamic memory allocator. I've a few ideas on how to do it, and now it is just the writing of the code that is going to consume the most time.
Oh yeah, the weekend is the most relaxing so far, simply because I've already completed my ML code for my other programming-based class. Just lying in the horizon are my Logic assignments, as well as my Probability and Computing homework. That and a whole bunch of administrative mumbo-jumbo that I need to settle.
Alright, enough of random talking. I need to get back to work.
[Ed: If you are here looking for solutions to malloc() lab, shame on you. Go do the thinking yourself and learn instead of hitting the internet for answers.]
Friday, November 02, 2007
Recorder On
In the dark, I took a walk through the cold. It was quite amazing—the temperature was about 5.3°C, yet I was feeling somewhat warm while walking through around campus. Considering the fact that I was only wearing the usual T-shirt (+ half-folded sleeves long-sleeved shirt) and jeans, it was indeed a little bit weird.
Maybe I'm sick but I don't know about it.
Anyway, I've decided to carry a recorder around. During the day/night when I'm out of my dorm room (and far away from my computer), I tend to have lots of random and not-so-random thoughts, thoughts which I want to put down on [virtual] paper. But when I sit in front of my machine at the end of the day, I don't seem to be able to remember anything that I thought of, and this sucks.
Alright, that's all for now. I need to run some hard core tests to make sure that my code is right before submitting it for grading.
Maybe I'm sick but I don't know about it.
Anyway, I've decided to carry a recorder around. During the day/night when I'm out of my dorm room (and far away from my computer), I tend to have lots of random and not-so-random thoughts, thoughts which I want to put down on [virtual] paper. But when I sit in front of my machine at the end of the day, I don't seem to be able to remember anything that I thought of, and this sucks.
Alright, that's all for now. I need to run some hard core tests to make sure that my code is right before submitting it for grading.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Subconsciously Pushing People Away?
I wonder sometimes why I act the way I do when I'm with some people. While not overt, could it be that subconsciously, I just want to push away everyone so that I can feel sorry for myself and end up pushing even more people away?
That'd be something really disastrous, if indeed that idea were true. Imagine, all this while, while my conscious wants company, my subconscious is trying to undo all that my conscious is trying to do.
Egh.
So, anyway, there's so much things to do yet again, and maybe it'll be a while till I update this. Now, I need to look for food—weather's turning cold, and I'm turning more and more hungry. I need to keep an eye out on how much I eat though, lest I get even fatter and cannot fit into my jeans [again]. That would suck so bad.
That'd be something really disastrous, if indeed that idea were true. Imagine, all this while, while my conscious wants company, my subconscious is trying to undo all that my conscious is trying to do.
Egh.
So, anyway, there's so much things to do yet again, and maybe it'll be a while till I update this. Now, I need to look for food—weather's turning cold, and I'm turning more and more hungry. I need to keep an eye out on how much I eat though, lest I get even fatter and cannot fit into my jeans [again]. That would suck so bad.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
November is Arriving
Yes, it is night again, and I'm still up at this unholy hour (almost). It's been a pretty long day, with all the homework and preparation of the team for the presentation tomorrow, as well as working on my schedule for the coming Spring semester (without the schedule being available) and then griping to my academic advisor over various aspects of my scheduling.
November is approaching (it is going to be November in like... 3 days-ish?) and I'm tempted to enter NaNoWriMo again. However, I feel that I probably can't do it again this year—there's just too many things to do just to keep afloat, let alone doing something like this which takes up a lot of time.
Maybe some other time. Meanwhile, I feel the need to actually sleep (I am getting exhausted). It is going to be a long day tomorrow.
Hmm hmm...
November is approaching (it is going to be November in like... 3 days-ish?) and I'm tempted to enter NaNoWriMo again. However, I feel that I probably can't do it again this year—there's just too many things to do just to keep afloat, let alone doing something like this which takes up a lot of time.
Maybe some other time. Meanwhile, I feel the need to actually sleep (I am getting exhausted). It is going to be a long day tomorrow.
Hmm hmm...
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Full Moon
The moon is full tonight—it is always so pretty when it is full. It brings backs memories, the full moon, some good, most bad. I have no idea why I am so affected by the moon; perhaps she is like the girls whom I have seen and known, always so pretty and nice, and always so far away from a weirdo like me.
They say that lunacy is associated with the moon—for some reason, I feel a sudden surge of energy from just seeing the moon in her full splendour. Perhaps I have an affinity with the moon after all, through the linkage of pure madness.
It seems strange that you're so friendly to me, yet step somewhat away in a slight distance. I don't know how you actually feel—I think that you just want to be a friend, no more, and certainly no less. I know not how to feel towards you, but perhaps I should not be cheating myself with how you are feeling. I know you read this blog at least once; I know you see the words I have. I know you don't speak much, and frankly, neither do I. I know that if I do anything really stupid, I would lose your friendship. Already I walk alone. I wish to not be even more alone than I really am. It is silly and sometimes even stupid of me to think things this way, but sometimes I cannot help it. If you think that you are the you that I am referring to here, you are probably right. But running horses will never make me tell you whether I am really referring to you or not. If you think that this is phishing, it might be; but I will not betray my own thoughts.
In this world, I don't think I need a mate; just a listening ear, and perhaps a shoulder to actually cry on when I'm feeling down. I don't care if this makes me sound like a wuss, or of a more gentle gender; I am still human, no matter how hard I try to mask that fact. Some people have mocked me many times before, and they still do, but in retrospect not all of their words are fallacious. In every lie, they say, there is usually some truth. Maybe one day I will learn the multitude of forms that the truth takes; but for now, I am just content with being to have friends who mind me not, and help guide me towards a path that is not wholly wrong.
Maybe the moon is right. The prettiest things are always out there, beyond one's grasp, always beckoning, but never coming close. The closest things are often not the most pretty, but they are the most beautiful, and needs to be cherished the most. Love might be a pretty thing, but friendships can last a lifetime, and are more sustained than the conflicting effects of love and lust, which can be easily misconstrued. I have few friends left in this world, yet they are among my most important pillars of support. If I don't have any more friends left, I wonder what kind of emotionless monster I will become.
I apologise for this sudden rush of emotions and thought; I felt that I needed to say something, when confronted by the full moon, the very epitome of the goals that I wanted to reach but cannot due to the sheer impossibility of it all, the very embodiment of what I have failed to see in this life. Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day; no one really knows.
Meanwhile, I thank you for stopping by to read what I have said—meaningful words don't come easy to me in conversation. I find that I speak the most truth when I'm uninhibited in my expression, perhaps it is a manifestation of my innately introverted side, as opposed to the gregariously mad persona that I take on in real life. Ah, the keyboard, the single most useful man-machine interface that mankind has ever devised, allowing the fingers to just do the talking of the ideas that are kept deep within the mind, when the mouth is unwilling to speak what is completely indelicate.
I guess I should stop here. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.
They say that lunacy is associated with the moon—for some reason, I feel a sudden surge of energy from just seeing the moon in her full splendour. Perhaps I have an affinity with the moon after all, through the linkage of pure madness.
It seems strange that you're so friendly to me, yet step somewhat away in a slight distance. I don't know how you actually feel—I think that you just want to be a friend, no more, and certainly no less. I know not how to feel towards you, but perhaps I should not be cheating myself with how you are feeling. I know you read this blog at least once; I know you see the words I have. I know you don't speak much, and frankly, neither do I. I know that if I do anything really stupid, I would lose your friendship. Already I walk alone. I wish to not be even more alone than I really am. It is silly and sometimes even stupid of me to think things this way, but sometimes I cannot help it. If you think that you are the you that I am referring to here, you are probably right. But running horses will never make me tell you whether I am really referring to you or not. If you think that this is phishing, it might be; but I will not betray my own thoughts.
In this world, I don't think I need a mate; just a listening ear, and perhaps a shoulder to actually cry on when I'm feeling down. I don't care if this makes me sound like a wuss, or of a more gentle gender; I am still human, no matter how hard I try to mask that fact. Some people have mocked me many times before, and they still do, but in retrospect not all of their words are fallacious. In every lie, they say, there is usually some truth. Maybe one day I will learn the multitude of forms that the truth takes; but for now, I am just content with being to have friends who mind me not, and help guide me towards a path that is not wholly wrong.
Maybe the moon is right. The prettiest things are always out there, beyond one's grasp, always beckoning, but never coming close. The closest things are often not the most pretty, but they are the most beautiful, and needs to be cherished the most. Love might be a pretty thing, but friendships can last a lifetime, and are more sustained than the conflicting effects of love and lust, which can be easily misconstrued. I have few friends left in this world, yet they are among my most important pillars of support. If I don't have any more friends left, I wonder what kind of emotionless monster I will become.
I apologise for this sudden rush of emotions and thought; I felt that I needed to say something, when confronted by the full moon, the very epitome of the goals that I wanted to reach but cannot due to the sheer impossibility of it all, the very embodiment of what I have failed to see in this life. Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day; no one really knows.
Meanwhile, I thank you for stopping by to read what I have said—meaningful words don't come easy to me in conversation. I find that I speak the most truth when I'm uninhibited in my expression, perhaps it is a manifestation of my innately introverted side, as opposed to the gregariously mad persona that I take on in real life. Ah, the keyboard, the single most useful man-machine interface that mankind has ever devised, allowing the fingers to just do the talking of the ideas that are kept deep within the mind, when the mouth is unwilling to speak what is completely indelicate.
I guess I should stop here. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.
"Suicidal Thoughts"
While trawling through the cesspools of the Internet, I found a photoshopped image that is particularly inspirational, which is rare, considering that it is after all the cesspool of the Internet. Here is the picture (redone a little to make it more clean as compared to the original):
I did a little trace online and managed to find the original artist, who is rimfrost at DeviantArt.
It is a cute comic, in a dark way (for some odd reason, I find the concept of "darkly cute" appealing, for instance, Miho from Megatokyo). But I find that the comic with the caption gave the overall combination a much stronger feel, which is something quite extraordinary.
Alright, I've had enough diversions. It is back to writing SML code for class.
I did a little trace online and managed to find the original artist, who is rimfrost at DeviantArt.It is a cute comic, in a dark way (for some odd reason, I find the concept of "darkly cute" appealing, for instance, Miho from Megatokyo). But I find that the comic with the caption gave the overall combination a much stronger feel, which is something quite extraordinary.
Alright, I've had enough diversions. It is back to writing SML code for class.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
When X turns to Y
In reference to this comic from PhD Comics, things are now turning fairly ugly. She started being my love, then she turned into my ex, and now she has turned into a why.
Why did I date her in the first place?
It seems that the backlash is starting to fall into place. Suddenly all the truth between all the phantasies (yes I know the word should be spelt as "fantasies", but I like the ph- form better) just pop out so quickly and readily. It was so blatantly obvious now—it was all a huge misunderstanding.
Sit back, relax [somewhat]: it is story time from my perspective (with added commentary from my 20/20 hindsight).
Let me explain from the very beginning. Remember the posts in March this year? Well, they are actually a cumulative representation of the state of mind that I had at that time—not too good, if you actually read through them carefully. This completely odd state of mind persisted till this post.
So what happened till then was that the Japanese Students' Association organised a day trip to Washington DC for the annual Cherry Blossoms Festival, in part to commemorate the good ties between America and Japan. And it was this time that I first asked her out, to join me on the trip to visit the Cherry Blossoms. The reasons were two-fold—firstly, I just wanted to get out of the extremely stifling atmosphere where the girl whom I had a crush on [rejected me outright] and was literally lying in the arms of my room mate every night (no, they weren't having sex—they were just lying there on the same bed literally sleeping, or so it seems to me); secondly, she happened to be the among the first people on my mind to ask out to make the trip, because it was kind of pointless to be going to the Cherry Blossom Festival on my own. I could have asked either a good friend of mine (who actually took time to listen to my woes with regards to the crush I had on the other girl, who happened to be our mutual friend), or I could ask another girl (whom I still kind of have a crush on, but till date have said/done nothing about it because of obvious incompatibilities) to go with me. Either way didn't sound like good ideas, for I felt that I was probably taking up too much of my friend's time already, and asking a girl whom I had a crush on to go with me to see Cherry Blossoms was probably not a good idea by virtue of the fact that it was so highly suspicious.
So I thought of her instead, as she seemed to be a little more level-headed and willing to try out interesting things without getting to caught up in the messy details. And so I asked her to join me for the trip, and she agreed with no hesitation. The trip was then planned out and carried out.
Already I should have seen the signs; all that insistent teasing about me bringing my laptop along to do homework while being on the road, and the laughing of how I sang. All these should have been warning signals so bright and loud that I should have been able to see/hear them. But I think I was still in a bad mental state to be able to evaluate the issue at hand. We didn't declare a relationship until the next time we met, which was about a week later, when she said that she wanted to take me to some pond that she visited earlier in the day with a bunch of her friends. It was nearly dark when she told me about that, and I brought along my 箫 for no real reason other than to maybe play it in the night just for fun (because 箫 music in the middle of a pretty quiet night is really wonderful). Since it was dark, we decided not to go to the pond (which she said was actually in the middle of the woods, which was not a good idea to visit then due to the darkness of the night); instead, we went up to a hill which overlooked the skyline of the city. It was there that I made the first step towards my eventual pain. I threw an arm around her to keep her warm, and that was interpreted as me wanting something more from her.
In a way, it probably was. I was torn pretty much emotionally because of all the bad events that were occurring over the period, and was thus susceptible to such emotional fluxes. So the next day, we declared the start of our relationship, and so began the first phase of the saga.
——
So at this point, while I'm writing this up, this song started playing on my playlist in foobar2000, which I might add, seems to be quite an apt summary of what happened:
Of course, all that I've said about this is based on hindsight—at that time, how was I to know what and how things would be?
——
We were almost inseparable throughout the remainder of the semester; almost always found doing things together, from studying, to playing MMORGs (that's the first (and most likely the last) time that I actually played MMORGs; as of now, I've already abandoned the account on that MMORG). I felt that I have found someone truly for me. It was true that she doesn't look like some super model, it is also true that she tends to poke fun at me for quite a bit; but it was all in good fun and I didn't really mind. She was there, and that was all that mattered.
But the tell-tale signs were always there; I just stupidly shrugged them off. She said outright that she would never think that I'd be with her; she always dreamt of herself either being on her own, or with some guy who was taller. There was so many things that was wrong with the overall picture when I stood next to her, but I didn't and couldn't see what they were, at least, not then.
Then the semester ended. I helped her secure storage locations with my friends because all the on-campus ones were already filled up by the time we started packing (we had finals till the very late, and most of the enterprising students have already taken up all the on-campus storage locations much earlier in the week). And she promised to bring my bicycle with her back to NYC for the summer (because I couldn't find a place to store my bicycle away safely).
She left.
——
And so I returned to Singapore for the summer. We kept in contact via IM. From the conversations that ensued, it was almost crystal clear that we were definitely heading for a break-up. The insistent criticism of parts of me, from my accent ("you should either take up a British or American accent, and not have that colonial one"), to my bicycle ("your bicycle is so broken! I'm not going to bring it back with me next time hahaha"), to inciting me to commit illegal acts ("hey, can you bring me this particular flower from Singapore?"), sounded more harsh when they were stripped down to their bare forms, without the tempering quality of her being around. Though biting, I let the words stand, blindly thinking that things would work out will in the long run. But as the days go by, even I started to have some misgivings about this whole relationship.
What was she to me anyway? Why do I even love her? I cast these thoughts aside [foolishly], and focused on her good points (there were, I assure you). And I willed myself to completely not think about all these bad points and to love her the way she is, trying to adapt to how she is.
And then she dropped that motherfscking bombshell on my head via IM. She gave me a bunch of reasons; her top being that I was "getting too serious about the whole relationship thing" and that "she wasn't ready". Now, with a much calmer mind without random emotional flux disturbances, I realise that there was more to that than what she said; bottomline was: she didn't need me anymore.
For I was her physical crutch during the highly stressful late half of the semester. With the limited ki-channelling abilities that I had, I was able to help with her discomfort by channelling energy around. But when she's back at home, she had the expert care of her mother (a Chinese physician), who used moxibustion to help move the stagnant energy in her body. With such a good source of physical comfort, where do I stand? Also, since she was back at home (as was I), there was even less reason to want to be with/rely on me.
And now, for some hard-hitting words. I was deceiving myself on her purity and goodness. She was a typical American-Asian—a spoilt brat. Unlike me, she has never had to lift her finger to do an ounce of work to earn what she wants; being an only child in a Chinese family of doctors meant that she could have anything that she wanted. And it was true; she had an iPod that she didn't quite use, a macbook pro which she used somewhat mediocrely, a good piano for her to practise on (Steinway baby grand), a set of audiophilic headphones (Bose) for listening to music on her iPod/laptop, among other things. I should have taken up the hint earlier when she was complaining about the state of my bicycle. The bicycle (given to me by my friend, Paul) is not in the best of shape with bright and shiny gears and all, but it is mechanically sound and still works; the bicycle is as much a tool as it is a momento of a friend who decided to quit out of college to seek his own fortune in the world. To diss it is already a sign of what she has in her mind.
And when we returned this Fall for yet another semester, I was going to have dinner with a bunch of my friends. Then she called and said that she was ready to pick up her stuff that she had stowed away, and I had to abandon my dinner and went to give her a hand. More irritating parts; earlier (say end last semester), I had given her the contacts of my friends who own the basement where we were storing our stuff. And when I called her earlier in the day, she had the cheek to tell me that she hadn't confirmed details with them. I'm like "..." and went ahead to help set up stuff with my friends. I guess that my friends, being out of the scenario, could probably see clearer than I that she was a spoilt brat. She didn't lift a finger to move her items; the labour was taken up by my two friends and I. And when one of the boxes was dead because of the flood of the basement some time during summer (yes, I was affected too), she had the gall to make an audible sound of disgust. One of my friends had made a prophetic remark earlier: "wah lau, if she don't thank must condemn already".
Of course it was true. We moved everything into her father's SUV, then she just left, still wearing her sunglasses and everything.
It was clear that I don't want her back anymore.
Then, of course, the recent fiasco...
I don't really want to talk more... it's already a long post, and it's already long over, but I feel that I want to talk about it to obtain a much clearer perspective to myself why I had initially dated her and treated her seriously, and why her decision to break up with me was as good a decision for her as it was for me.
The current state of affairs is not good. I still have some of her music theory notes which I loaned from her earlier in the year during the time when we were still civil; I want to return them to her soon and get it over and done with. It is clear that it will be a much longer time before we can actually maintain a decently civil conversation between us. Until the time comes when she gets off her prissy princess tower and start to talk to me in a fashion that doesn't sound condescending, it will be a while before I will want to talk to her for any extended period of time.
What manner of mockery it is; nobody deserves any kind of abuse, verbal or otherwise. Being a spoilt brat doesn't give one the right to act like a prissy kid. I believe in hard work to getting my jobs done, and to not be overly reliant on others. I know I'm not that strong emotionally, but if my emotional crutch were to be something as vicious as her, then I'd rather limp about with my emotional fluxes without the crutch than to be caught in an unending spiral of trauma.
That said, I'm more or less back to my old self, the pre-NS days when I work off raw adrenaline/caffeine, and always running a gear or two higher. Things are not perfect, but I'm sure that with my intellect and willingness to actually do work, things will work out just fine.
Until next time.
Why did I date her in the first place?
It seems that the backlash is starting to fall into place. Suddenly all the truth between all the phantasies (yes I know the word should be spelt as "fantasies", but I like the ph- form better) just pop out so quickly and readily. It was so blatantly obvious now—it was all a huge misunderstanding.
Sit back, relax [somewhat]: it is story time from my perspective (with added commentary from my 20/20 hindsight).
Let me explain from the very beginning. Remember the posts in March this year? Well, they are actually a cumulative representation of the state of mind that I had at that time—not too good, if you actually read through them carefully. This completely odd state of mind persisted till this post.
So what happened till then was that the Japanese Students' Association organised a day trip to Washington DC for the annual Cherry Blossoms Festival, in part to commemorate the good ties between America and Japan. And it was this time that I first asked her out, to join me on the trip to visit the Cherry Blossoms. The reasons were two-fold—firstly, I just wanted to get out of the extremely stifling atmosphere where the girl whom I had a crush on [rejected me outright] and was literally lying in the arms of my room mate every night (no, they weren't having sex—they were just lying there on the same bed literally sleeping, or so it seems to me); secondly, she happened to be the among the first people on my mind to ask out to make the trip, because it was kind of pointless to be going to the Cherry Blossom Festival on my own. I could have asked either a good friend of mine (who actually took time to listen to my woes with regards to the crush I had on the other girl, who happened to be our mutual friend), or I could ask another girl (whom I still kind of have a crush on, but till date have said/done nothing about it because of obvious incompatibilities) to go with me. Either way didn't sound like good ideas, for I felt that I was probably taking up too much of my friend's time already, and asking a girl whom I had a crush on to go with me to see Cherry Blossoms was probably not a good idea by virtue of the fact that it was so highly suspicious.
So I thought of her instead, as she seemed to be a little more level-headed and willing to try out interesting things without getting to caught up in the messy details. And so I asked her to join me for the trip, and she agreed with no hesitation. The trip was then planned out and carried out.
Already I should have seen the signs; all that insistent teasing about me bringing my laptop along to do homework while being on the road, and the laughing of how I sang. All these should have been warning signals so bright and loud that I should have been able to see/hear them. But I think I was still in a bad mental state to be able to evaluate the issue at hand. We didn't declare a relationship until the next time we met, which was about a week later, when she said that she wanted to take me to some pond that she visited earlier in the day with a bunch of her friends. It was nearly dark when she told me about that, and I brought along my 箫 for no real reason other than to maybe play it in the night just for fun (because 箫 music in the middle of a pretty quiet night is really wonderful). Since it was dark, we decided not to go to the pond (which she said was actually in the middle of the woods, which was not a good idea to visit then due to the darkness of the night); instead, we went up to a hill which overlooked the skyline of the city. It was there that I made the first step towards my eventual pain. I threw an arm around her to keep her warm, and that was interpreted as me wanting something more from her.
In a way, it probably was. I was torn pretty much emotionally because of all the bad events that were occurring over the period, and was thus susceptible to such emotional fluxes. So the next day, we declared the start of our relationship, and so began the first phase of the saga.
——
So at this point, while I'm writing this up, this song started playing on my playlist in foobar2000, which I might add, seems to be quite an apt summary of what happened:
Don't Say Your Love Me—M2MIn hindsight, I needed her as much as she needed me then. She was my emotional crutch, while I was her physical support crutch. By then, I was already a certified First degree Reiki practitioner, and she needed ki to help with her health (she had an overall weak constitution as opposed to the relative "iron body" that I had). So, between both of our needs, it seemed that the whole relationship business was more of mutual support during times of needs than anything else.
Got introduced to you by a friend
You were cute and all that, baby you set the trend
Yes you did oh
The next thing I know we're down at the cinema
We're sitting there, you started kissing me,
What's that about
You're moving too fast, I don't understand you
I'm not ready yet, baby I can't pretend
No I can't
The best I can do is tell you to talk to me
It's possible, eventual
Love will find a way
Love will find a way...
Don't say you love me
You don't even know me
If you really want me
Then give me some time
Don't go there baby
Not before I'm ready
Don't say your heart's in a hurry
It's not like we're gonna get married
Give me, give me some time
Here's how I play, here's where you stand
Here's what to prove to get any further than where it's been
I'll make it clear, not gonna tell you twice
Take it slow, you keep pushing me
You're pushing me away
Pushing me away...
Don't say you love me
You don't even know me
If you really want me
Then give me some time
Don't go there baby
Not before I'm ready
Don't say your heart's in a hurry
It's not like we're gonna get married
Give me, give me some time
oooo, na, na, na, na, na, na, na
na, na, na, na, na, na
oooo, na, na, na, na, na, na, na
na, na, na, na, na, na, na
Don't say you love me
You don't even know me baby...
Baby don't say love me, baby
Give me some time...
Don't say you love me
You don't even know me
If you really want me
Then give me some time
Don't go there baby
Not before I'm ready
Don't say your heart's in a hurry
It's not like we're gonna get married
Give me, give me some time
(repeat until fade out)
Of course, all that I've said about this is based on hindsight—at that time, how was I to know what and how things would be?
——
We were almost inseparable throughout the remainder of the semester; almost always found doing things together, from studying, to playing MMORGs (that's the first (and most likely the last) time that I actually played MMORGs; as of now, I've already abandoned the account on that MMORG). I felt that I have found someone truly for me. It was true that she doesn't look like some super model, it is also true that she tends to poke fun at me for quite a bit; but it was all in good fun and I didn't really mind. She was there, and that was all that mattered.
But the tell-tale signs were always there; I just stupidly shrugged them off. She said outright that she would never think that I'd be with her; she always dreamt of herself either being on her own, or with some guy who was taller. There was so many things that was wrong with the overall picture when I stood next to her, but I didn't and couldn't see what they were, at least, not then.
Then the semester ended. I helped her secure storage locations with my friends because all the on-campus ones were already filled up by the time we started packing (we had finals till the very late, and most of the enterprising students have already taken up all the on-campus storage locations much earlier in the week). And she promised to bring my bicycle with her back to NYC for the summer (because I couldn't find a place to store my bicycle away safely).
She left.
——
And so I returned to Singapore for the summer. We kept in contact via IM. From the conversations that ensued, it was almost crystal clear that we were definitely heading for a break-up. The insistent criticism of parts of me, from my accent ("you should either take up a British or American accent, and not have that colonial one"), to my bicycle ("your bicycle is so broken! I'm not going to bring it back with me next time hahaha"), to inciting me to commit illegal acts ("hey, can you bring me this particular flower from Singapore?"), sounded more harsh when they were stripped down to their bare forms, without the tempering quality of her being around. Though biting, I let the words stand, blindly thinking that things would work out will in the long run. But as the days go by, even I started to have some misgivings about this whole relationship.
What was she to me anyway? Why do I even love her? I cast these thoughts aside [foolishly], and focused on her good points (there were, I assure you). And I willed myself to completely not think about all these bad points and to love her the way she is, trying to adapt to how she is.
And then she dropped that motherfscking bombshell on my head via IM. She gave me a bunch of reasons; her top being that I was "getting too serious about the whole relationship thing" and that "she wasn't ready". Now, with a much calmer mind without random emotional flux disturbances, I realise that there was more to that than what she said; bottomline was: she didn't need me anymore.
For I was her physical crutch during the highly stressful late half of the semester. With the limited ki-channelling abilities that I had, I was able to help with her discomfort by channelling energy around. But when she's back at home, she had the expert care of her mother (a Chinese physician), who used moxibustion to help move the stagnant energy in her body. With such a good source of physical comfort, where do I stand? Also, since she was back at home (as was I), there was even less reason to want to be with/rely on me.
And now, for some hard-hitting words. I was deceiving myself on her purity and goodness. She was a typical American-Asian—a spoilt brat. Unlike me, she has never had to lift her finger to do an ounce of work to earn what she wants; being an only child in a Chinese family of doctors meant that she could have anything that she wanted. And it was true; she had an iPod that she didn't quite use, a macbook pro which she used somewhat mediocrely, a good piano for her to practise on (Steinway baby grand), a set of audiophilic headphones (Bose) for listening to music on her iPod/laptop, among other things. I should have taken up the hint earlier when she was complaining about the state of my bicycle. The bicycle (given to me by my friend, Paul) is not in the best of shape with bright and shiny gears and all, but it is mechanically sound and still works; the bicycle is as much a tool as it is a momento of a friend who decided to quit out of college to seek his own fortune in the world. To diss it is already a sign of what she has in her mind.
And when we returned this Fall for yet another semester, I was going to have dinner with a bunch of my friends. Then she called and said that she was ready to pick up her stuff that she had stowed away, and I had to abandon my dinner and went to give her a hand. More irritating parts; earlier (say end last semester), I had given her the contacts of my friends who own the basement where we were storing our stuff. And when I called her earlier in the day, she had the cheek to tell me that she hadn't confirmed details with them. I'm like "..." and went ahead to help set up stuff with my friends. I guess that my friends, being out of the scenario, could probably see clearer than I that she was a spoilt brat. She didn't lift a finger to move her items; the labour was taken up by my two friends and I. And when one of the boxes was dead because of the flood of the basement some time during summer (yes, I was affected too), she had the gall to make an audible sound of disgust. One of my friends had made a prophetic remark earlier: "wah lau, if she don't thank must condemn already".
Of course it was true. We moved everything into her father's SUV, then she just left, still wearing her sunglasses and everything.
It was clear that I don't want her back anymore.
Then, of course, the recent fiasco...
I don't really want to talk more... it's already a long post, and it's already long over, but I feel that I want to talk about it to obtain a much clearer perspective to myself why I had initially dated her and treated her seriously, and why her decision to break up with me was as good a decision for her as it was for me.
The current state of affairs is not good. I still have some of her music theory notes which I loaned from her earlier in the year during the time when we were still civil; I want to return them to her soon and get it over and done with. It is clear that it will be a much longer time before we can actually maintain a decently civil conversation between us. Until the time comes when she gets off her prissy princess tower and start to talk to me in a fashion that doesn't sound condescending, it will be a while before I will want to talk to her for any extended period of time.
What manner of mockery it is; nobody deserves any kind of abuse, verbal or otherwise. Being a spoilt brat doesn't give one the right to act like a prissy kid. I believe in hard work to getting my jobs done, and to not be overly reliant on others. I know I'm not that strong emotionally, but if my emotional crutch were to be something as vicious as her, then I'd rather limp about with my emotional fluxes without the crutch than to be caught in an unending spiral of trauma.
That said, I'm more or less back to my old self, the pre-NS days when I work off raw adrenaline/caffeine, and always running a gear or two higher. Things are not perfect, but I'm sure that with my intellect and willingness to actually do work, things will work out just fine.
Until next time.
Candara
If you're not on Windows Vista, or do not have the Microsoft Powerpoint Viewer 2007 installed, you'd probably not see a difference in the blog(s). Well, firstly, I've actually changed the overall theme to one that is a little bit easier on the eyes. The second thing was that I switched over to using the default font of "Trebuchet MS" to "Candara", which gives a much more fluid flow to the words. In fact, the words seem to be a little more pretty than before. I guess this is one thing that Microsoft actually did quite well, I guess.
More interesting things to come, I assure you.
More interesting things to come, I assure you.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Lull Week for a Moment
It is finally a relatively lull week. I've managed to complete a programming (hacking) lab early, and since my room mate has kindly requested that I not work too late tonight because he needs a proper rest for the calculus test tomorrow at about 7.30 in the morning, I'm not going to be doing any more homework for the night.
Which is fairly liberating. To be able to just sit back and relax in the darkness (oh, how I miss the darkness!) and just relish in the good music that I have on my headphones, while my hard drives and cooling fans spin with a silent hum. The night air is somewhat fresh after the light rain that started in the evening; a really wonderful way to spend the night. Oh how I long for that special someone to actually be next to me, and the two of us, sitting in the light rain under the dark sky, on top of a field with the sweet smell of dew in the air, huddling close together, enjoying each other's warmth as the small droplets of rain fall pitter-patter ever so slowly on and around us. And our heads will be touching, in the way that lovers do, and we keep our eyes closed and concentrate on each other's rhythmic breathing. It would be a timeless night, where at that moment, time would seem to have stood still, and there were only two people in the whole world (us).
Mmmm... a sweet dream indeed. A dream that may or may not come true, depending somewhat on what I do, and what fate has in store for me.
But I digress [as usual]. As this semester draws on, I realise that I am actually learning more new stuff than ever before, particularly on the way with which truth is being pursued in terms of the application of logic. Logic itself is a strange beast—it starts off as being a symbol manipulation game, but as the number and type of axioms and rules of inference increase, the logistical system starts to take on a life on its own, where its syntax and semantics are intertwined to the point that it becomes devilishly hard to determine which is which within the system itself. This is a most wonderful way to think about how things are constructed in the real world. The study of logic itself has taught me something that I had slowly come to suspect; while everything that can be derived from the axioms can be derived with only the axioms, but with the proving of more general forms of axiom schemas, it makes the proof much simpler to comprehend, much like how we use mathematical induction to prove certain properties without going back to old school Peano arithmetic. This whole idea is one that seems inane, but has really deep metaphysical impact. Derived rules of inferences are very useful because we do not need to be bogged down by the mechanical intricacies to "make it work".
With that information in mind, I kind of feel a bit put-off by folks who keep claiming that "you can always prove everything from the axioms, so the derived rules of inference are useless". I mean, hell yeah, you can prove everything from the axioms and the primitive rule of inference, but do you know how long it will take you if those are all that you can use? Idealism without being grounded in reality is useless, as is being completely utilitarian without any ideals to look up to. What's the point of doing a proof if all it involves is a whole bunch of mechanical symbolic manipulations (which the computer beats us in doing hands down), and not the overall insight that we are most interested in?
Okay... it is actually getting late (it's 1 am, and even though I like the dark, I'm feeling the strain/tiredness from all the hacking earlier), and so I'm gonna crash out.
Until next time.
Which is fairly liberating. To be able to just sit back and relax in the darkness (oh, how I miss the darkness!) and just relish in the good music that I have on my headphones, while my hard drives and cooling fans spin with a silent hum. The night air is somewhat fresh after the light rain that started in the evening; a really wonderful way to spend the night. Oh how I long for that special someone to actually be next to me, and the two of us, sitting in the light rain under the dark sky, on top of a field with the sweet smell of dew in the air, huddling close together, enjoying each other's warmth as the small droplets of rain fall pitter-patter ever so slowly on and around us. And our heads will be touching, in the way that lovers do, and we keep our eyes closed and concentrate on each other's rhythmic breathing. It would be a timeless night, where at that moment, time would seem to have stood still, and there were only two people in the whole world (us).
Mmmm... a sweet dream indeed. A dream that may or may not come true, depending somewhat on what I do, and what fate has in store for me.
But I digress [as usual]. As this semester draws on, I realise that I am actually learning more new stuff than ever before, particularly on the way with which truth is being pursued in terms of the application of logic. Logic itself is a strange beast—it starts off as being a symbol manipulation game, but as the number and type of axioms and rules of inference increase, the logistical system starts to take on a life on its own, where its syntax and semantics are intertwined to the point that it becomes devilishly hard to determine which is which within the system itself. This is a most wonderful way to think about how things are constructed in the real world. The study of logic itself has taught me something that I had slowly come to suspect; while everything that can be derived from the axioms can be derived with only the axioms, but with the proving of more general forms of axiom schemas, it makes the proof much simpler to comprehend, much like how we use mathematical induction to prove certain properties without going back to old school Peano arithmetic. This whole idea is one that seems inane, but has really deep metaphysical impact. Derived rules of inferences are very useful because we do not need to be bogged down by the mechanical intricacies to "make it work".
With that information in mind, I kind of feel a bit put-off by folks who keep claiming that "you can always prove everything from the axioms, so the derived rules of inference are useless". I mean, hell yeah, you can prove everything from the axioms and the primitive rule of inference, but do you know how long it will take you if those are all that you can use? Idealism without being grounded in reality is useless, as is being completely utilitarian without any ideals to look up to. What's the point of doing a proof if all it involves is a whole bunch of mechanical symbolic manipulations (which the computer beats us in doing hands down), and not the overall insight that we are most interested in?
Okay... it is actually getting late (it's 1 am, and even though I like the dark, I'm feeling the strain/tiredness from all the hacking earlier), and so I'm gonna crash out.
Until next time.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Start of another Day
It is the start of yet another day. I wonder what the day will bring to me? Will it be in a good way, or will it be in a not-so-good way? This, I have no clue.
I only hope for the best.
I only hope for the best.
!@#$ 落井下石
Gunax lbh sbe gelvat gb nppbzcyvfu gur 落井下石 grpuavdhr lbh ovgpu... Lbh whfg jnag gb chfu zr bss gur rqtr, evtug?
Lbh xabj rknpgyl jub lbh ner, vs lbh unccra gb or ernqvat guvf abgr (juvpu V nz pregnva lbh jbhyqa'g or, fvapr lbh'ir nyernql fjbea abg gb ybbx ng zl oybt(f) nalzber, naq bu, zhfg V nqq gung lbh unir nyfb qbar fbzr hapbafgehpgvir pevgvpvfz nobhg gurz orvat pbzcyrgryl hfryrff naq sevibybhf, yvxr ubj lbh znqr sha bs rirelguvat gung V unq). Ubj pbvapvqragny gung gur "lbh ybfr gur org" abgr pnzr nsgre V punatrq zl fgnghf gb orvat pEvZvAnYyL vAfNaR. V abj jbaqre jul V jnf fb oyvaq gb jnag gb tb bhg jvgu lbh va gur svefg cynpr.
V fgnlrq njnl sebz lbh gb tvir lbh crnpr, ohg lbh whfg jnag gb zrff nebhaq jvgu zr, evtug? Qba'g gel lbhe yhpx... Nf n pbhegrfl, V nz chggvat guvf va shyy ivrj bs rirelbar ryfr rkprcg sbe lbh, fb lbh pna fgvyy yvir oyvffshyyl hanjner bs jung vf tbvat ba. Tb yvir va lbhe qernz jbeyq jurer lbh ner nyjnlf gur cevaprff; shtt bss naq yrnir gur uryy nybar bs zr.
Vs lbh unira'g ernyvfrq ol abj, tb sfpx lbhefrys. Zhfg V fnl vg ntnva? Bxnl, tb sfpx lbhefrys. Qb abg grfg zl shel naq ivyrarff.
You push a man too far, he will fscking kill and eat you...
[Ed: This is hopefully the first and the last time I am going to use strong language in the blog(s). Anyone who feels offended should take their whining somewhere else and realise that even a calm person has his/her limits of patience with complete idiots who seem to be out to ruin their lives.]
Lbh xabj rknpgyl jub lbh ner, vs lbh unccra gb or ernqvat guvf abgr (juvpu V nz pregnva lbh jbhyqa'g or, fvapr lbh'ir nyernql fjbea abg gb ybbx ng zl oybt(f) nalzber, naq bu, zhfg V nqq gung lbh unir nyfb qbar fbzr hapbafgehpgvir pevgvpvfz nobhg gurz orvat pbzcyrgryl hfryrff naq sevibybhf, yvxr ubj lbh znqr sha bs rirelguvat gung V unq). Ubj pbvapvqragny gung gur "lbh ybfr gur org" abgr pnzr nsgre V punatrq zl fgnghf gb orvat pEvZvAnYyL vAfNaR. V abj jbaqre jul V jnf fb oyvaq gb jnag gb tb bhg jvgu lbh va gur svefg cynpr.
V fgnlrq njnl sebz lbh gb tvir lbh crnpr, ohg lbh whfg jnag gb zrff nebhaq jvgu zr, evtug? Qba'g gel lbhe yhpx... Nf n pbhegrfl, V nz chggvat guvf va shyy ivrj bs rirelbar ryfr rkprcg sbe lbh, fb lbh pna fgvyy yvir oyvffshyyl hanjner bs jung vf tbvat ba. Tb yvir va lbhe qernz jbeyq jurer lbh ner nyjnlf gur cevaprff; shtt bss naq yrnir gur uryy nybar bs zr.
Vs lbh unira'g ernyvfrq ol abj, tb sfpx lbhefrys. Zhfg V fnl vg ntnva? Bxnl, tb sfpx lbhefrys. Qb abg grfg zl shel naq ivyrarff.
You push a man too far, he will fscking kill and eat you...
[Ed: This is hopefully the first and the last time I am going to use strong language in the blog(s). Anyone who feels offended should take their whining somewhere else and realise that even a calm person has his/her limits of patience with complete idiots who seem to be out to ruin their lives.]
Monday, October 22, 2007
I Die When I Sleep, And Reborn When I Awaken
Every night when I sleep, I die, and in the next morning when I awaken, I am reborn. This cycle of rebirth has occurred for quite a while, ever since I realised that my life was destined to be that of suffering, and joy is something that I cannot be able to partake in without worrying about the potential bitterness that will come just around the corner. It is not a nice way to live, I know, but sometimes, one has to make do with what one has. To be alive at all is a blessing of sorts; many a child never had the chance to see the light of day, for they perished even before being able to exit their mother's womb to see the world for themselves. Life is transient, life is pure, but no one is born exactly the same; some must suffer, while others must enjoy. It is in the order of things that things are the way they are. Some say that it is because of the stars, others the planets, and yet others claim that it has something to do with how the elements are formed during the time of birth, or even the way the name was chosen.
I'll keep it simple, and just say that it is fated. There are so many things that we all want, but how many of us can really obtain all that we desire? Humankind has tried to address this issue by instituting the concept of fairness through the division of labour and the division of the rewards, but society has been unforgiving and have doomed all such schemes to failure.
I know my lot in life is to suffer. I am but a cog in the giant machination that drives the entire human race forwards. Perhaps there are some people who care for me; the vast majority doesn't. I will not want to harm nor upset those who care, but neither do I want to live in a dream where everything is possible but none of them are achieveable.
I'd rather keep my nose to the grindstone and work away than to float about in the clouds and not be grounded about the reality of it all.
I'll keep it simple, and just say that it is fated. There are so many things that we all want, but how many of us can really obtain all that we desire? Humankind has tried to address this issue by instituting the concept of fairness through the division of labour and the division of the rewards, but society has been unforgiving and have doomed all such schemes to failure.
I know my lot in life is to suffer. I am but a cog in the giant machination that drives the entire human race forwards. Perhaps there are some people who care for me; the vast majority doesn't. I will not want to harm nor upset those who care, but neither do I want to live in a dream where everything is possible but none of them are achieveable.
I'd rather keep my nose to the grindstone and work away than to float about in the clouds and not be grounded about the reality of it all.
爱我的人和我爱的人
《爱我的人和我爱的人》——裘海正人生仿佛一场梦，在梦中是多么的开心，多么的快活。但在现实生活中，这场梦并不美丽——有的人在一生中只有伤痛，而没有幸福，又有别人一直有快乐，有很少的痛苦。
盼不到我爱的人
我知道我愿意再等
疼不了爱我的人
片刻柔情它骗不了人
我不是无情的人
却将你伤的最深
我不忍 我不能
别再认真
忘了我的人
离不开我爱的人
我知道爱需要缘分
放不下爱我的人
因为了解他多么认真
为什么最真的心
碰不到最好的人
我不问 我不能
拥在怀中
直到他变冷
爱我的人为我痴心不悔
我却为我爱的人甘心一生伤悲
在乎的人始终不对
谁对谁不必虚伪
爱我的人为我付出一切
我却为我爱的人流泪狂乱心碎
爱与被爱同样受罪
为什么不懂拒绝痴情的包围
(music)
离不开我爱的人
我知道爱需要缘分
放不下爱我的人
因为了解他多么认真
为什么最真的心
碰不到最好的人
我不问 我不能
拥在怀中
直到他变冷
爱我的人为我痴心不悔
我却为我爱的人甘心一生伤悲
在乎的人始终不对
谁对谁不必虚伪
爱我的人为我付出一切
我却为我爱的人流泪狂乱心碎
爱与被爱同样受罪
为什么不懂拒绝痴情的包围
爱我的人为我痴心不悔
我却为我爱的人甘心一生伤悲
在乎的人始终不对
谁对谁不必虚伪
爱我的人为我付出一切
我却为我爱的人流泪狂乱心碎
爱与被爱同样受罪
为什么不懂拒绝痴情的包围
在美国读书的我，心中有千万刀刃割碎的痛。此痛的缘故来至于我对人生客悲观的内心挣扎。有些时候，我心中有一种酸溜溜的痛处，感觉上好像在盼望一个爱我的人。但又有些时候，我心中有的是一种很疯狂的客观感觉，好像是遇到了我爱的人。
就像裘海正所唱的一样，当爱我的人和我爱的人不一样时，心中就会有一种不平衡的感觉。我知道爱需要缘分，但一生中我又能等多久呢？一年？十年？二十年？一生？这种等候对于我来讲，是个很苛刻的要求。我本来就是一个很理性的人，对于感情与人与人之间的切磋，只有那么一点的理解。我知道我不是什么大人物，但我也知道至少我的本性不坏。来来去去了十几年，我还是孤孤单单的走出自己的事业。有时，在寒冷的冬天夜晚里，我就会幻想自己好像找到了一个好对象，但她只不过是一场梦，根本就不纯在。也就因为这一样，我从此只在自己极度的累时才尝试入眠。我不想再遇到那种不会在现实生活出现的幻想与梦。它只是给我一个毫无根据的希望，一个在霎那间消失的希望。
爱情到底为何物？为什么它能够为某些人给予力量，但又为某些人制造麻烦？近几个月里，我的一些老朋友也在感情上受到了挫折；行走了几年的男女朋友，就在这几个月中分手。我不明白；我真的不明白。这种道理，似乎不能以理论来解释：难道这就是缘分的问题吗？
爱我的人不存在，我爱的人也不要我。在这种场合里，我又应该怎么办呢？
Friday, October 19, 2007
Tired
Ah! The freshness of the air after a gruelling fortnight!
It has, indeed, been a while since I last wrote anything here. And not without cause too, for it was really a long drawn fortnight that we all hoped would be over. There was just too many assignments and midterms happening all at the same time, and thus it was a rather hellish fortnight.
All in all, I've completed a grand total of 3 midterms over the last 48 hours, and by now am so tired. I'm probably going to take the day off and do really random stuff. Maybe I will write more later on.
It has, indeed, been a while since I last wrote anything here. And not without cause too, for it was really a long drawn fortnight that we all hoped would be over. There was just too many assignments and midterms happening all at the same time, and thus it was a rather hellish fortnight.
All in all, I've completed a grand total of 3 midterms over the last 48 hours, and by now am so tired. I'm probably going to take the day off and do really random stuff. Maybe I will write more later on.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Serious Most of the Time == Penalty?
Here's something interesting to think about: why do people like to penalise others who are serious most of the time? By "penalise", I mean "to invoke an action that has negative social effects; examples include insults, stereotyping, and shunning". And by "serious", I mean "mostly in a state of mind no different from that of doing work".
Just think about it... perhaps someone can come up with an interesting theory/idea on the truth of this statement.
Just think about it... perhaps someone can come up with an interesting theory/idea on the truth of this statement.
Geeks, Phreaks, Creeps and Meeps
CS majors are a strange bunch. We have the geeks, the phreaks, the creeps and the meeps.
The geeks just like computers because they are fun. The geeks love to mess around with the computers, and have some form of a social life, in their own little geeky way. Funny geek talk usually follows directly from their lexicon.
The phreaks are the geeks who are so deep into their craft that they kind of lost touch with some of their social skills. At times, they can be found camping out in computer clusters, practically eating, living and sleeping there.
The creeps are phreaks gone bad; they frequent 4chan and other internet cesspools for so long that they start reeking and sound like some random /b/-tard speaking. They talk creepily, walk creepily and laugh creepily, that is of course if they actually leave the cluster in the first place.
The meeps are geeks who have turned to the dark side of money—they are not too deep into their craft but want the quick cash through business. Needless to say, these folks are usually among the most mediocre of all the CS majors, simply because they focus on the business too early. Most of the great IT heroes/businessmen didn't start off with messing with business—they just start with a good piece of code that represents a good idea, and then running with it and eventually turning it into a company of sorts. This is why the dot-com burst came about; meeps tried to to think of the business too early, without having enough of their tech ideas set up properly.
So which group am I in? That's for me to know, and for you to find out.
The geeks just like computers because they are fun. The geeks love to mess around with the computers, and have some form of a social life, in their own little geeky way. Funny geek talk usually follows directly from their lexicon.
The phreaks are the geeks who are so deep into their craft that they kind of lost touch with some of their social skills. At times, they can be found camping out in computer clusters, practically eating, living and sleeping there.
The creeps are phreaks gone bad; they frequent 4chan and other internet cesspools for so long that they start reeking and sound like some random /b/-tard speaking. They talk creepily, walk creepily and laugh creepily, that is of course if they actually leave the cluster in the first place.
The meeps are geeks who have turned to the dark side of money—they are not too deep into their craft but want the quick cash through business. Needless to say, these folks are usually among the most mediocre of all the CS majors, simply because they focus on the business too early. Most of the great IT heroes/businessmen didn't start off with messing with business—they just start with a good piece of code that represents a good idea, and then running with it and eventually turning it into a company of sorts. This is why the dot-com burst came about; meeps tried to to think of the business too early, without having enough of their tech ideas set up properly.
So which group am I in? That's for me to know, and for you to find out.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Proof Sketch of Me Being Too Weird
While studying for my logic test which will be coming in a few hours, I came up with a hypothesis why till date I am still not attracting females: I'm too weird.
Here is the situation. Suppose I am interested in some girl, and make the usual advances sans complete and absolute get-in-my-pants-now kind of flirtation. Then it is usually fairly obvious to the girl that I am interested in her. So far so good.
Now suppose that I decide to tell the girl that I like her and would like to date her. Let this action be known as a "confession". Then her reply will start with "sorry I'm not interested" followed by "why me".
While the "I'm not interested" response is trivial to justify, the response of "why me" is something that is worth a deeper analysis. If I am someone who comes across as being desirable enough for her to be interested, she would never have needed to actually ask that second question, since I would be fulfilling some kind of her own expectations/fantasies. If that is true, we are of course done.
Suppose to the contrary then that it is not true that I am desirable enough to evoke a positive feel in the her. Then the simply put question of "why me" can be understood as a rhetoric device, notsomuch as trying to determine why I was interested in her (we will examine this possibility later), but more to the effect of "oh my god, why do you like me [you freak of nature]". In this context then, it is not presumptuous to deduce that the reason why the question ever came up was due to the fact that I was too weird, and that she would never have seen me liking her.
Now, for the case of me being under the scrutiny in the determination of why I like her, a reasonable argument in my favour will be that she is insecure of her own qualities and need some kind of reassurance to boost her self-confidence. However, this can be proven to be false simply by invoking the fact that I was rejected just a sentence or two ago. If she were really to be insecure of her own qualities, then the expected feeling garnered from someone who confesses should be a favourable one, and not the rejection that was thus experienced. Since the rejection was effected, then it can be clear that I was too weird for her taste, and thus being unable to satisfy her inner insecurities with the strengths of my own.
So what is the bottomline, you might ask? Simple. I am too fscking weird for females in particular, and other people in general. I run on a higher frequency of thought, a higher energy level, and operate almost completely on a different plane of reality. I straddle the border between clinical/criminal insanity, and idiot savant. I may have some social skills, but they are better honed for a more professional relationship than a personal one.
Put simply, I'm too weird for them to take it. Need I say more about this?
Here is the situation. Suppose I am interested in some girl, and make the usual advances sans complete and absolute get-in-my-pants-now kind of flirtation. Then it is usually fairly obvious to the girl that I am interested in her. So far so good.
Now suppose that I decide to tell the girl that I like her and would like to date her. Let this action be known as a "confession". Then her reply will start with "sorry I'm not interested" followed by "why me".
While the "I'm not interested" response is trivial to justify, the response of "why me" is something that is worth a deeper analysis. If I am someone who comes across as being desirable enough for her to be interested, she would never have needed to actually ask that second question, since I would be fulfilling some kind of her own expectations/fantasies. If that is true, we are of course done.
Suppose to the contrary then that it is not true that I am desirable enough to evoke a positive feel in the her. Then the simply put question of "why me" can be understood as a rhetoric device, notsomuch as trying to determine why I was interested in her (we will examine this possibility later), but more to the effect of "oh my god, why do you like me [you freak of nature]". In this context then, it is not presumptuous to deduce that the reason why the question ever came up was due to the fact that I was too weird, and that she would never have seen me liking her.
Now, for the case of me being under the scrutiny in the determination of why I like her, a reasonable argument in my favour will be that she is insecure of her own qualities and need some kind of reassurance to boost her self-confidence. However, this can be proven to be false simply by invoking the fact that I was rejected just a sentence or two ago. If she were really to be insecure of her own qualities, then the expected feeling garnered from someone who confesses should be a favourable one, and not the rejection that was thus experienced. Since the rejection was effected, then it can be clear that I was too weird for her taste, and thus being unable to satisfy her inner insecurities with the strengths of my own.
So what is the bottomline, you might ask? Simple. I am too fscking weird for females in particular, and other people in general. I run on a higher frequency of thought, a higher energy level, and operate almost completely on a different plane of reality. I straddle the border between clinical/criminal insanity, and idiot savant. I may have some social skills, but they are better honed for a more professional relationship than a personal one.
Put simply, I'm too weird for them to take it. Need I say more about this?
Monday, October 08, 2007
Bad Things Return With Good
How volatile can life be?
With the old me returning, all the good things are coming back to me.
But at the same time, some of the old ones are too.
Guess that's all that I can say now.
These next two weeks are going to be gruelling, so I'm gonna be putting in the effort needed to make sure that I come out unscathed from them.
Meanwhile, take care for now.
With the old me returning, all the good things are coming back to me.
But at the same time, some of the old ones are too.
Guess that's all that I can say now.
These next two weeks are going to be gruelling, so I'm gonna be putting in the effort needed to make sure that I come out unscathed from them.
Meanwhile, take care for now.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Tech Stuff Again
In reference to this, I think that it is a wonderful idea to be able to use computers to aid us in the design of novel solutions to existing problems, with more cost effectiveness and overall efficiency being almost guaranteed. However, like how I always am cautious with technology, I believe that this is also a cause of concern. Human society is never known to be running things in the "global optimum" scale; for the most part, we just try to get things done to the point where we get a good enough return for the amount of energy and money invested. Usually, this means that we are not quite at the 100% efficiency, because beyond a certain level of efficiency, the cost required to further bump up the capability is often exponential. That said, with the advent of cheaper means of doing the trial-and-error process (often the most time consuming of all), it will not be a surprise if we start having designed devices and processes outstripping those that we originally designed.
Which brings us to the question: do we really need/want the extreme optimal of everything? And more importantly, are all these going to architect our own downfall eventually, when our technology has evolved past the point where they literally start having a life on their own. Already, we have passed the threshold where a single human can literally understand all of the known human knowledge; how much more before we reach the point where even a group of humans cannot understand all of the known human knowledge?
In other news, my faith in turning to nature for inspiration is further enhanced by this article on mother-of-pearl and this article on the appendix. I always have a saying, despite all the great advances that we humans have, nature has been at it for almost 15 billion years, so I think that sometimes we need to eat the humble pie and look at nature for inspiration.
15 billion years of trial-and-error is indeed a force to reckon with. heheheheh...
Which brings us to the question: do we really need/want the extreme optimal of everything? And more importantly, are all these going to architect our own downfall eventually, when our technology has evolved past the point where they literally start having a life on their own. Already, we have passed the threshold where a single human can literally understand all of the known human knowledge; how much more before we reach the point where even a group of humans cannot understand all of the known human knowledge?
In other news, my faith in turning to nature for inspiration is further enhanced by this article on mother-of-pearl and this article on the appendix. I always have a saying, despite all the great advances that we humans have, nature has been at it for almost 15 billion years, so I think that sometimes we need to eat the humble pie and look at nature for inspiration.
15 billion years of trial-and-error is indeed a force to reckon with. heheheheh...
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Loco Females—Get Lost, I'm Not Interested
As part of the "get myself back together campaign", I've decided to be wary of females. Specifically, I have decided to be wary of females who has problems psychologically, in the sense that they are literally loco. Ever since I got rudely removed from the relationship thingy, I find myself sitting on the sidelines and adopting a more non-chalant viewpoint on things, thus allowing me to observe the people around me a little better. So, there are some girls out there that I think no guy should ever get close to—these are the loco girls that I'm referring to.
But what exactly do I mean when I say that some girl is loco?
It isn't too hard, really, and the observations that I make are not directed at only the females; they apply to folks in general, but as males we might tend to overlook this fact when all the hormones are raging all over the place. Before I get hit with all those sexist allegations, let me state here once and for all that it is just my personal observation.
First off, don't trust girls who ask you to buy alcohol for them so that they can drown their sorrows. I mean it. Anyone who resorts to alcohol as the first resort towards problem solving is definitely one who has serious problems with coping with reality. Responsible and matured folks know that alcohol is not the solution to any problem—all it does is to postpone the reckoning to some other time, it never does make the problem "go away". Since I'm not going for cheap thrills, I'm definitely avoiding this group of females; I have the right to date someone who is more sure of herself, and not be some uncontrollable immature girl that she is.
Secondly, girls who keep on trying to put you down through subtle and not-so-subtle comments/snarky remarks should be treated with caution. These folks probably have some kind of inferiority/superiority complex and want to show how much more "powerful" they are as compared to you, and will make your life ridiculously difficult by making you jump through unnecessary hoops. I mean, come on, relationships are supposed to be partnerships, not some kind of contest to see who is the best; it is really pointless to show that one is much better than the other person because it introduces complications relating to how a person perceives his/her self-worth. Again, I'm not going to get myself to be entangled with females of this sort.
Thirdly, girls who talk to you not because of you being you but you being a manifestation of some weird stereotype should also be treated with caution, particularly if they seem to suggest that they want your attention. These group is dangerous because they are drawn in by some of their own fantasy, and are thus blinded by reality, which means that when that little bubble breaks because you are you and thus do not fit the imagery that they have, you'll be in for a great heart-breaking. Seriously, I'll just talk to them at the very most, maybe flirt around a little for fun, and not take them too seriously.
Fourthly, girls who treat you exceptionally nice. Meaning, if some girl appears to be interested in you for whatever reason, it doesn't mean that they really want to know more about you. I admit for a fact that I am neither a psychologist nor well-versed enough in the way that women think, but I will not be that easily hooked by some girl who appears to be interested in me. I mean, I'm not some poor pathetic soul who needs some loving from some random girl; not all guys are fanboys. Maybe she is just trying to flirt around, test waters, take some chances; I'll just play along, but I'm not expecting much, unless I know her long enough to know what her intentions are.
Inasmuch as it is the right of the girl to determine who she wants to go out with, I think that males have the exact same right to decide who he wants to go out with also. The legions of male folks who are in the traditionally male-dominated fields are not a pathetic bunch that is to be taken advantage of—it is time to even out the playing field again. The idea of female companionship to a male should not be taken as some kind of commodity/edge/advantage to be misused by the females on the supposed helpless horde of geeks—we too have the right to determine who we want to go out with, and to do what when we are with them.
So, can all those inane girls please grow up and leave the hell alone of me if you are loco? I am not your typical geek; there's more in me than you'd ever think that you know. Don't make me do evil things to thwart your stupid plans...
...I never make empty threats.
But what exactly do I mean when I say that some girl is loco?
It isn't too hard, really, and the observations that I make are not directed at only the females; they apply to folks in general, but as males we might tend to overlook this fact when all the hormones are raging all over the place. Before I get hit with all those sexist allegations, let me state here once and for all that it is just my personal observation.
First off, don't trust girls who ask you to buy alcohol for them so that they can drown their sorrows. I mean it. Anyone who resorts to alcohol as the first resort towards problem solving is definitely one who has serious problems with coping with reality. Responsible and matured folks know that alcohol is not the solution to any problem—all it does is to postpone the reckoning to some other time, it never does make the problem "go away". Since I'm not going for cheap thrills, I'm definitely avoiding this group of females; I have the right to date someone who is more sure of herself, and not be some uncontrollable immature girl that she is.
Secondly, girls who keep on trying to put you down through subtle and not-so-subtle comments/snarky remarks should be treated with caution. These folks probably have some kind of inferiority/superiority complex and want to show how much more "powerful" they are as compared to you, and will make your life ridiculously difficult by making you jump through unnecessary hoops. I mean, come on, relationships are supposed to be partnerships, not some kind of contest to see who is the best; it is really pointless to show that one is much better than the other person because it introduces complications relating to how a person perceives his/her self-worth. Again, I'm not going to get myself to be entangled with females of this sort.
Thirdly, girls who talk to you not because of you being you but you being a manifestation of some weird stereotype should also be treated with caution, particularly if they seem to suggest that they want your attention. These group is dangerous because they are drawn in by some of their own fantasy, and are thus blinded by reality, which means that when that little bubble breaks because you are you and thus do not fit the imagery that they have, you'll be in for a great heart-breaking. Seriously, I'll just talk to them at the very most, maybe flirt around a little for fun, and not take them too seriously.
Fourthly, girls who treat you exceptionally nice. Meaning, if some girl appears to be interested in you for whatever reason, it doesn't mean that they really want to know more about you. I admit for a fact that I am neither a psychologist nor well-versed enough in the way that women think, but I will not be that easily hooked by some girl who appears to be interested in me. I mean, I'm not some poor pathetic soul who needs some loving from some random girl; not all guys are fanboys. Maybe she is just trying to flirt around, test waters, take some chances; I'll just play along, but I'm not expecting much, unless I know her long enough to know what her intentions are.
Inasmuch as it is the right of the girl to determine who she wants to go out with, I think that males have the exact same right to decide who he wants to go out with also. The legions of male folks who are in the traditionally male-dominated fields are not a pathetic bunch that is to be taken advantage of—it is time to even out the playing field again. The idea of female companionship to a male should not be taken as some kind of commodity/edge/advantage to be misused by the females on the supposed helpless horde of geeks—we too have the right to determine who we want to go out with, and to do what when we are with them.
So, can all those inane girls please grow up and leave the hell alone of me if you are loco? I am not your typical geek; there's more in me than you'd ever think that you know. Don't make me do evil things to thwart your stupid plans...
...I never make empty threats.
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