Source: (This picture will make sense farther down).

I have not written on here in ages. In fact, I have not really written anything in far too long.

I return to you with a myriad of random thoughts that I keep getting throughout the day; things I think should be heard by the general populace, but that don’t currently fill up an entire article-sized document in my brain.

#1: It’s not irrational to be afraid of the sea. I am a WALKING. MAMMAL. Everything there has a huge advantage over me. I’d call it self-preservation. Everything in the sea/ocean ADAPTED to be as perfect as possible for its…

found on google.

Amy Eberton always had her head in the clouds. You had to call her name multiple times for her to answer. She barely seemed to pay attention in class, yet her grades seemed fine, although no one knew exactly how she was doing, outside of the teachers. Her parents never showed up in school, or were ever called in.

Jamie Axander always found her to be fascinating, but he never really approached her. He found his ‘opportune moment’ when he was partnered up with her for their science project.

The day was dreary and dark. The sun may have been…

It seems to me that we create environments for our brains to get used to, to adapt to and be comfortable with. And we can change how it behaves by changing its environment. It’s like us. It takes time to change and adapt. But perhaps that’s another thing we can affect. We get the brain used to the perception of time and the need for it for changes to take effect, when really that’s just what we’ve accustomed ourselves to and integrated into our perspectives of everything, such as the world around us. Perhaps, with one change in our thinking…

Can someone explain to me why in the world evolution up and decided one day that we needed to stick wings on ants?

I mean, you walk into your kitchen, but since you’re a uni student, there’s not really any food in there that’s not instant noodles or three months expired hot dogs in the freezer. And that pile of clothes, so carefully washed by — definitely not you, cause you’re too busy wallowing in the self-destructive behaviour of incessant self-criticism which seems to attack the most random angles of your existence —

Oh, hey, why am I, a person…

How do we even begin to write about things like these?

There is just so much to express. From the perceptions of older generations, to the flawed means of communication between us and them.

But I mean, who is to blame in the first place? Maybe both parties? Perhaps neither?

And you, dear reader. Who are you?

So many of us just give in, catatonic, wallowing in anger and self pity, shackled and limited by brainless criticism, labelled one thing or another. You sit there, muttering to yourself, every single day. You lock yourself up in your room, devoid of…

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She sat in the middle of the lake. It was more like a puddle, honestly, but with her size, it was basically a large body of water. It had its own inhabitants; she devised them herself. Plants surrounded her; everything hung in suspense in the water.

What she did not expect that morning was the stranger that stumbled into her realm.

He seemed blind to her, deaf. He fell into the water, unaware that he was drowning. His mind had taken hold; everything was covered in chaos. Everything around him was distorted. Anything good seemed bad. …


Jude had a gun.

That sounded about right to Michael. In his hand he held the book, the words blurring, sinking into themselves, like two big eyes crying ink. In the other hand, he held his drink. Which, maybe rather apparent, was the reason behind said blurriness. It had been his eighth glass of whiskey, or something. He had lost count, especially after the bottle was more than half empty. Certainly, the alcohol had some company. About a pack of cigarettes.

Why was Michael doing this anyway? Well, honestly? He was a musician. It was just a thing that came…



Who’s Mark?

Mark’s an explorer. An explorer of not just his home planet, but the whole universe.
What was in the universe? Well, some wonderful things, really. Planets. Black holes. A race of aliens called Gloopaps, because they were glooey. Which, in Mark’s native language, pretty much meant gooey. Liquid-like. Easy to squish. Paps, well, that just mean alien or living thing. It was a name mostly given to strange life. Gloopaps, or as they called themselves, huuumens… uh… humans. Yes. Humans.

For a strange reason that Mark did not understand, Gloopaps seemed inclined to finding themselves in miserable…

I’m simply not the person for university.

I don’t like the environment, the grading systems, or the fact that I seem to know more about some topics than some of my professors. I don’t care about a university degree, nor do I find it glamorous.

Yes, I love learning. It’s why I think so much about what I see everyday, why I read, why I wanna travel the world and see it all for myself. I wanna take a stroll down paths that speak of history. I grew up travelling, and writing is one thing that keeps me alive. As…

What does it even really mean to have a university degree?

Nothing, really. It’s just a pointless piece of paper that says you had the discipline to go to the same place for four years, or perhaps more, taking lessons and tests on things that, once you graduate, you think you’re an expert on.

Well, you’re not.

No one is, really. Because, if you really think about it, we might get to grasp more about a certain topic, perhaps something you’re more passionate about than anything else, but every time you learn something new, you’re gonna have new questions, the…

Shit that Physicist Thinks

Physics student, artist, writer, gamer, thinker. This is just a blog about random shit I think about. Can be funny. [SATIRE AHEAD.]

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