The Opinions of an Alzheimer ridden Mathematician
11:13 PM ***har**: Busy?
Never mind then
Although I do love talking to blank wall sometimes
Well all the time
Do you talk to yourself?
I do
11:14 PM (Most of my friends do)
I even talk to myself about talking to myself
Like right now
I have nothing to do now
I should do mathematics
(Everyone should)
11:15 PM But home represents an escape from all duty
Including the self-imposed ones
Chatting with you is like writing a blog entry
Without any provision for a revision
11:16 PM And perhaps without any possibility of anyone reading it
I am quite enjoying it
Are you?
I guess you can block me
Do I get any notification if you do that?
I have never been blocked
11:17 PM At least to my knowledge
So either I am popular, or gmail is subtle
I shall go with the second one
But then again, why should you block me?
Or why shouldn’t you?
11:18 PM I am being selfless (way too selfless by my standards)
I am only talking about you
I should talk about myself
11:19 PM I haven’t said anything for the last 1 minute
I am getting slow
Or old
Or both
11:20 PM Those were the days that I could master
The pace was slow and I was faster
Nice one, eh
I thought so
11:21 PM As an Alzeimer-ridden mathematician’s opinion
Is that the right spelling of Alzeimer?
May be not
But who cares
There is a more beautiful poem on the same concept
I loved it
Wordsworth
11:22 PM Ode to the Intimations of the Immortality from the Recollections of Early Childhood
There was a time when the meadow, grove and the stream
And every other common sight
To me did seem
Appareled in the celestial light
11:23 PM The glory and freshness of a dream
It is not now as it hath been of yore
The Moon rises and goes
And lovely is the rose
But the things that I have seen
I now see no more
(There was more in the poem, but I don’t really remember)
11:24 PM I think I shall stop here
I have real people to talk to now
One of my Princeton friends came online
Catch you some other time
It was nice talking to you
It's been 3 years, 1 month since this was posted. Stashed up as The Diary of a Fugitive.
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At this time of year I always say
Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.
Nor the woman in the ambulance
Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly —
A gift, a love gift
Utterly unasked for
By a sky
Palely and flamily
Igniting its carbon monoxides, by eyes
Dulled to a halt under bowlers.
O my God, what am I
That these late mouths should cry open
In a forest of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers
Posted 4 months, 2 weeks after the fact.
Very nice. So did you get blocked or not?
Posted 1 year, 3 months after the fact.
Ah, I was the one at the receiving end! :)
I have sometimes talked to blank chat windows. Once for over an hour! But never got blocked. :)
Posted 1 year, 3 months after the fact.
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