Atrophy

When I think about the
time I lost through atrophy
I cannot but laugh

Time is a cruel course
Of blood and tears and regret
filled with atrophy

I wonder through time
Who has never been worn out
then I laugh once more

Forever and more
Does time scrape out our colours
till eternity

To L

Perhaps one day we will never cross our eyes ever again. The grey and white walls of the cubicle would fall; the image of me in your memory would vapourize, like a slight breeze that never returns. One day when I am stranded in the sea, clinging to a floating log, I would only hope that one cell of your brain would still contain the vestige of my image, no matter how small that cell is.

'Tis a sweet dream of
Naked fire and Endless water
't's a curse of time with
Angst that I strangle my dream...

The Wind Fish wakes; the island vanishes. All that remains is but a dream. And as difficult as it is to recall a dream, you will never leave my eyes.

Multiple thoughts

There is a visage called the mouth. It is a gas mask, which renders all speech to muffles, unintelligible ramblings about anything that must be deemed insignificant. Oratory and dirges, all reduced to blasphemous nonsense. Each of these thoughts that follows may offend you, but that is because of its originality, its unbroken virtue that doth not penetrate the material plastic that separates fire from fantasy. If you find yourself unable to continue reading, then please, by all means, stop, and continue with your life: that so insipid, so bastardized life.

1. On the most dis[g]ussed number: What is it with numbers that so... enchant, or rather, deceives the common man? For one fine example, take the essential unity from the difference of the leading immaculate duet, give three less than sextuple itself where Galois could guarantee, allow a superstition to adulterate one less than which our terrestrial cosmos do orbit... I suppose, and I do suppose, that numbers is the only means which men could characterize themselves... quantitatively. Quantitative descriptions allow for easy comparisons. And who is able to look fame in the eye and not be seduced? This man only resides in novels and poems, I suppose. A number is painted gold, but let humanity be a solution of aqua regia. I will see what your number can do.

2. On humiliation. What does it mean to be humiliated? I suppose that we would agree that a loss in a battle is a humiliation (or even a loss of a number...). I would say to you that battles themselves are humiliations: Humiliations to the very virtue of human. Is it enough to win? No. No victories are accomplished without defeat, and even if there are, it would not satiate the bottomless pit. Yes, that is a kind of humiliation. But what IS humiliation? Humiliation is the moment when the immoral "moralizes", the uneducated "educates", the barbaric "rules", the dissonant "unites", the greedy "humbles", the entropic "organizes", the downright egregious plays the protagonist in the contrived theatre you call life. This is why we are doomed to fall as a civilization: These uncivil underminers of what our ancestors have established.

3. On rules: I am an opposer of authoritarian regimes. I would much prefer a life without rules than one with rules. I am sure that most would agree. But from where do rules arise? We are a civilization that is uncivil. We harm each other to our benefits, or even to our own harm, for the sake of harming. This sadism permeates through all of us, an inescapable fate that plays the final notes of our dirge, breaking the string of the violin of life, I suppose. When I observe how downright evil and selfish humans (and I mean you, all of you) can be, I would just sigh in the face of rules, and allow her to deliver her punishment to mankind, as I have proven that human is a kind of animal that thrives not on civilization, but on torture.

4. On the Obvious: I did a presentation on the theory of knowledge for the IB, and discussed the topic of common sense (yes I am a student too). Yet, I suppose I should reject all that I said. Humans are illogical creatures. Even the most obvious of all things would seem to them as dubious. Humans have eyes, but they are so rarely used that I doubt if we have them functioning at all. An inherently false statement by definition, or even by the most basic of all logic, would be deemed true, and be used as a law, a theory in the "Sciences". How absolutely ridiculous, how an entity can be formed with 1000 individual entities that wish only to annihilate their own species, to gain an advantage (or to perform sadistic acts, as I have mentioned). The result is a structure that collapses on itself. Yet, we put them in a package so elaborately decorated, so colourful, so pretentious, that we would win our battle just by cardboard alone. 

I suppose that I should stop thinking. Thinking is not valued in this society anymore. Better to say the prayers that harm, the incantations that kill, the curse that, ironically, heals, while the music of life runs, albeit always a beat slow.

The Interviewed and the Dead

Yesterday, English killed the Summer

Today, English killed the innocent mind

In the midst I heard a Chinese voice

"Your bag is open"

I sighed as I was spared of my life



What an irony, that I write in a language that kills

But do guns kill?

Crimes under the moonlight

Today is the time when the Chinese celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival, characterized by the bright and round moon that shines its light on all of us. No matter where you are physically (as long as you are in the correct time zones and as long as weather permits), you can see the same bright and round moon, just as anyone else can see it. This is why it is often used as a symbol of union.

The moonlight is elegant -- it sure is. It shines on humanity without scorching it. It carries warmth without the harsh heat of the sun. Nonetheless, it shines, despite of its inability to light our lives up. It does not take credit of that.

It is as if the future is communicating with us, when I look at the sky it is. I wonder how many emotional and inspirational quotes are derived from this glowing rock, reflecting the sun's radiation on earth, yet almost in an ephemeral, insignificant manner. A wisp of the electromagnetic power, transported nonetheless, unfailingly, no matter how negligible. It perhaps reminds us, how we are but a measly group of creatures, inhabiting this small rock in the solar system, orbiting along the Milky Way, somewhere in space, sometime in time, or perhaps, somewhere in the Multiverse. We are but a "pale blue dot".

But some are not content alas. Moonlight is not enough. Being insignificant isn't the answer. Through calculations and papers, we have arisen from an uncivilized culture to a civilized brawl. Brawlers berserk under the moonlight, transforming into menacing werewolves, about to devour the very heart of humanity, the earth, the measly, almost impalpably tiny pale blue dot. They want not the immaterial moonlight. They want the moon. The moon itself.

Thus, no more union.

The first spacecraft to reach the moon arrived at the moon in 1959, the Luna 2. The first man to land on the moon, of course, is Neil Armstrong, in 1969. We, people from the earth, are trying to own the moon. We want the competition. We like competitions. Science is a competition. We engineer to lead our country to compete against the onslaught of other countries, carrying the same psychology. The leading institute in research, but of course. For a number, we have fought. For a number, we have self-denied. For a number, we have strangled. For a number, we have murdered.

And you wonder, sitting here reading this, what a number can do to us. Certainly, competitions are the derivative of numbers. (Mathematics is often confused with numbers. I assure you they are not equal.) We want the rock above the pale blue dot. Most of all, we want to be above the pale blue dot. It is not enough for us to advance. We need others to fail at advancing.

And you wonder, sitting here reading this, what happened to the man who wanted the moon. Well, all I could say is that he found himself a way to ascend, a way to pull himself to the surface of the moon. He rises, and rises... until the earth became a pale clue sector, then a pale blue sphere... A rock in front of him. That's all he gets. Nothing else.

You want a rock? (Do you mean what you say?)

The moon, thus, is not about union anymore. Nor is it about time, about curiosity, about love. It is about a number. 7180114562 deaths, as well.

Story of the man with a cigarette

There once was a man with a cigarette

The cigarette is where the man finds his home

The man is where the cigarette finds his home

Polluting the atmosphere for fantasy.


One day, the cigarette was stolen

Enraged, the man took out his machete

And shredded everyone he saw on the street

Why would you not mourn for my loss? the man thought


And it was all natural for him to do that

Who would allow others to rejoice

While he loses his meagre bit of dignity

The cigarette, as it is called.


The company of thieves, named C,

Struck by the violence of the man,

Returned the cigarette (secretly of course)

I don't want to be the next victim! they thought.


And here is the story of the man with a cigarette

The cigarette is where the man finds his home

The man is where the cigarette finds his home

Continuing to pollute, continuing to fantasize.

A_Tragic_Tale.py

Last login: Sun Jul 14 22:44:05 on console
n218103212030:~ nicholaswong$ python3
Python 3.3.2 (v3.3.2:d047928ae3f6, May 13 2013, 13:52:24)
[GCC 4.2.1 (Apple Inc. build 5666) (dot 3)] on darwin
Type "help", "copyright", "credits" or "license" for more information.

>>> A sprint
Voltage: 3.00V
Power: 90%

>>> Absences
Voltage: 2.80V
Power: 70%

>>> Newsletter
Voltage: 2.50V
Power: 50%

>>> An angel
Voltage: 3.50V //I am about to overload!
Power: 100%

>>> Leaving. Why?
Voltage: 2.30V
Power: 30% //FAILING CONDITION! POSSIBLE CAUSE (ERROR CODE): 34ΛY

>>> Distance
Voltage: 2.29V
Power: 25% //FAILING CONDITION! SHUTDOWN IMMINENT.

>>> Insignificant ramble
Voltage: 2.25V
Power: 50% //USING BACKUP POWER SOURCE! (You don't have to do this. Really.)

>>> Horror
Voltage: 2.20V
Power: 50% //IDLE: 2 HOURS

>>> Hope
Voltage: 2.50V
Power: 50% //Are we having power again?







>>> Leavings.
Voltage: 0V
Power: 0%

SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.




You are hopeless.