remembering hollow hope or infinite stupidity

He just stood there with that small package in his hand, his mind hurriedly revising the lines he had planned, the expression he wanted to wear for the countless responses he had considered.

I had explained to him how self-centered he is, to include not something about you, but just himself.

He just answers with things like; the world for me is seen through the mirror of my mind. So to say things about you, he just needs to construct a collage of scribbles in his drawer.

I tell him to be humorous, try something fun. He just looks around and continues. I told him to apologize; well this time, he did not. He just went ahead punching the soft keys of his beloved little machine, glancing periodically, in a very business like matter on the scraps of paper he'd pulled out of his 'drawer'. Well it’s been long since we've seen them.

I told him to forget it. He said there must be some place, and someone to appreciate those who cannot walk from one room to another, as they pick up a book. They stop while doing something, to eat instead, or are never on time for dinner, cause they realized that the song playing was worth completing.

wane

Revisiting moments he had been alive, he started to move with a childish spring in his step, quickening his pace. He moved in a sprint feeling the air gently kneading his hair. Taking the final step with a strong push he looked down bliss filled down the long fall. He gave a loud shout of freedom expressing clearly his ideas on life he had lived here, on earth.

Feeling proud, victorious he waited for the concrete. The world around disintegrated slowly and blew away like a handful of dust.

He kept falling into an endless space, the building, ground, the sun; everything had given way to a gigantic hollow.

He heard no sound yet longed for silence; he felt no pain still he hoped that the torture would end. Nothing changed; time had stopped to mock him as the desire for the final impact grew within him. It was not meant to be so, not until he accepted things, not unless he fought back and did more than hope

standing there

I stand here trying to contemplate the past, things happened the way they did because I am in here trying to figure out why. I had always felt the need to move along the world into the future.

I have interests in Computer Networks, Artificial Life, and International Politics. Addicted to Heavy Metal Music I have grown on Metallica, Iron Maiden, and Black Sabbath for the past 3 years. Instrumentals such as Joe Satriani, Paco de Lucia, and Eric Johnson give me reasons to live and die. I shout a lot (cotton will be handy, if you meet me), but really don’t mean to hurt people much. I despise studying course related material. I really do not know myself much and rely heavily on friends and family for debugging required in life.

I have always searched for the substance of ‘me’ among the so-similar self-organizing neural net-based billions of humans.

In dreams I see myself taking an imperative stance directing the flow of life.

Apprehensive but glad to be here; I try to share, distance myself from the ‘self’ as I search for the reason for being me. Hoping to be understood, I let the insides flow out into words that seldom make sense to any but me. Trying to free myself from the crutches of an ambiguous helplessness I want to learn, to educate myself into being useful for at least one life.

Along with a friend I had looked at the stars, wondering if they really did exist. Questions followed, raising doubts; do we exist. It is a wonderful world of abstracts and thought-experiments that we flowed through gaining every moment an insight into lives we live as ignorant and lifeless concentrations of unpredictably defined energy.

It is a pity; I disappoint myself, yearning to get an overview of everything while not existing for a cause. I have felt the object turn to the existence of my ego, an intimacy for the world of me growing as if plaguing the neural nets of my mind into an eternal trap in the ‘I’.

classroom debate

lets se what we have to keep us busy today.
I'm getting addicted to this stuff. Its freedom, its peace, to let go, to not think, to not have inhibitions, to let flow thoughts trapped, boarded inside the brain.

wake up

something has to be written i need to wake up

Half the problem is understanding the program. How to specify and algorithm. Program

some people kep on writing. i wonder about what the write, prof is confused! but student gets him right

Book is to be read. some portions left during C course.

Is it human nature to try to do

An abstract data type is a mathematical model of a data structure that

well lets see, lets be enthusiastic, lets wake up, it ussualy fetches you excellent marks. We examine therefore the topics discussed today:

what is algo, What is data strc, what is hitler's idea of peace, why are we living to succed, we do i not enjoy my constant failures, are they failures, what am i writing , I was supposed to be making notes, this is my lecture going on, i am here to study, why study, i am happy, in bliss without it, well then again i do what i'm meant to do, What is Abstract Data Type, Data Struc and Algorithms lecture 2.
but I don't want that, i don't see progress in that special button on my remote to get back to the previous channel, I use it, but what, i don’t give respect to the one who (END OF LECTURE)

well

I told him this is of no use, all of this is just to sad, worthless. He just gave a cold shrug. I asked him about the reasons for leaving out the words, letter, sentences on other scraps of paper. He just does not care, stupid fellow just randomly picked up three of them.

and who can I be, well i emerge from the third. Apologies from my side, he has just lost his head. I think i should anyways put forward the genesis of me.

I've always maintained that I am his great idea, his brilliance, even convinced one of his friends but he just threw me with all his other scraps of useless words. I'm lucky that I'm out today. He does not believe me, I ask you for help. Adopt me, make me your own, I promise that you'll be on the top of the world.

Well he just thinks I'm a silly idea he got in 8th standard and he should no longer indulge in such stupidities.

this is me :
(he calls me ‘mindless musings’)
Science it is believed will catch up with the paranormal, or completely dismiss most mystical activities. Foundations of the world as we perceive are not very stable, the space-time graph has many faults (cracks) and at the quantum level the universe exists as foam. Where do these cracks or holes in our universe lead to; possibly into one of the countless other mathematically conceivable worlds? Such a world that we feel and many claim to understand has the co-ordinates of space overlaying, outside of our direct perpetual experience. Spirits as supernatural energy may be the result of accidental overlaps between the two worlds. Living along, around and within you is another world running parallel to ours; the gates guarded by light seem to give way many a times unleashing into our world powers far beyond natural. Concentrate hard and the energy manifest in you can cross over and feel this other world, which fuels our fears. We feel these powers and disregard them but as we live our life is bound to them.

This other world unlike ours will have the speed of light as the lower limit. Time flowing back in this world one is born from the ashes. As we end in this world our life in the other world starts with our death. Men with a powerful drive to affect us after they have passed reach out from the other world to garb onto our universe; affecting our lives as they grope around.

In a mathematically conceivable world existing along the universe we perceive within and around us, differentiated from our being may lay the answer to our apprehensions concerning the paranormal and bizarre. The physical universe of our existence has the speed of light as a barricade; beyond is an imperceptible world that is bound by the same limit but is on the other end. The coordinates of space-time overlaying, we exist simultaneously incapable of feeling those alive around us.

I told him, he should get over the talking worlds thing, he said that i'm not a world, but a concept, theory, maybe even a spirit or a doppelganger of him.

I'm sure we are on this together. He's just to stuck on himself. Cannot get over his past.

Consider me. Do not be as stupid as that him.