The raindrop, when it was young,
Had a rather juvenile dream:
To grow old and strong and flow, one day,
Like his first-born cousin Susie,
Into the Mighty Mediterranean

   Science is a crafty killer. You'll never find evidence on the scene of the murder.
  I don't want to ramble about science anymore. I'd rather study physics; that'll probably ease up on the guilt factor and the bitchiness.
  Lots of my friends have told me I'm acting like a snobby bitch after taking up science by not talking to them. That is sad. It's not like I don't try though. It's just that, well, Science is pretty demanding. It's like a mistress; and the deal with mistresses is that they want attention all the time they're around, because they know they aren't going to be around for long. But that's where Science is a step ahead: it's always around. If you're reading this with any concentration, you'd have noticed I've spellt science with a capital 'S'. That is done in an attempt to personify it. As a killer. With demands.
  And you know the thing with demanding killers right? You don't fulfill their demands, you get killed.
  I haven't written anything good in freaking ages. I thought I'd write a poem in English class, but somehow I was cajoled into solving chemistry sums while our teacher rambled on incessantly at a pitch that could deafen even dolphins.
  Our English book has a creative writing section at the very end. There was this one exercise in which you had to write a 4-line poem on something. I smiled to myself as I read, and when one of my classmates saw me flipping through the creative writing section, he gave me a baffled look; like something one would give to a duck trying to fly. Or better yet, a walking mosquito. Why waste time walking when you can fly?
  Needless to say, most of the science folks aren't particularly in touch with their right brain, but that's okay. They're almost gripped their left ones.
  It has also come to my notice that I don't really read a lot of books, I can hardly classify myself as a good guitarist, and when it comes to science, I'm just a plain wannabe.
  So I probably won't end up being a majorly succesfull author. Or a musician. And chances are, I won't end up in IIT either. Damn, I'm headed towards abject failure. Then what the hell am I doing now, and will continue to, for the next two years? Minimizing damages.
  Speaking of damages, for the past few days in the zero-period, I've been singing and playing guitar all at once. It's fun. Tremendous fun. I know now why Clapton and Hendrix and all those singer-guitarists choose to both sing and play guitar: they don't need someone to sing PLUS it's freaking awesome! Although I'd say for the people around me it's nothing less than a catastrophe; and I do thank them from the bottom of my heart.
  And after I'm done making disastrous music which is fun nevertheless, I have to make a run for Physics class. Usually. And in the Physics practical lab, something happens to the time-space continuum. Time travels dreadfully slow. Seriously.
  VMC classes haven't even started yet. This summer vacation I'll spend more time in VMC then I will inside my house I guess. Or well, atleast roughly. And here's the reason why I'm even MORE screwed:



No Report Present. Yet.

   I have this feeling that the next two years are going to be hard. Much, much harder than the hard rock that I've treated my ears to all these years, but that's irrelevant right?
  Sigh.
  

  So, until I get more frustrated or have an idea to expand upon,
  Adios.

   Science, science, science. Yes, it does take a toll on you. It took a toll on me along with the pen that I was writing with. :/
   Stoichiometry sounds weird right? I still haven't figured how to pronounce it correctly. Is it staw-she-o-metry or stowa-kee-o-metry? The first one sounds cooler so that's how I say it. But it's the world of science, the infinite, infinite world of science, so how you pronounce something is irrelevent in comparison to its relevence. If the scientists had their way, there'd probably only one language in this world, and all its letters would be weird greek symbols. Not alphabets, mind you. Symbols.
   Anyhow, Molarity is actually a stoichiometric concept. For one you'd think it's just, 'Morality,' misspelt, but no. And to top it off, there's ANOTHER stoichiometric concept, which I fondly refer to as the brother of Molarity, called Molality. One might think it is just, again, 'Morality,' misspelt; like with an 'l' instead of an 'r', but NO! Moving on, there's yet another stoichiometric concept, which I refer to as the elder brother to both Molarity and Molality, called Normality. This is the least wierdest sounding stoichiometric concept (there's mole fraction, mass fraction and mass percentage too, but they're like litte kids compared to these). And why wouldn't it be? For one, it's called, 'Normality,' and any instance of it sounding 'not-normal' would be ironic.
   Moving further on, acids have a property called basicity and bases have a property called acidity. No, you did NOT misread. All ACIDS have a property called BASICITY and all BASES have a property called ACIDITY. This right here, folks, is one of the reasons why science is paradoxical. Not theoretically as much as literally, but still. And now for the funniest thing I read that's been stuck in my head for a while and will be for a long time to come because it just is THAT FUNNY:

For a mono-basic acid and a mono-acidic base, Normality = Molarity.

   Well, it's probably not THAT FUNNY. But still. It's paradoxical and there's this thing with normality and molarity and... well, it probably isn't even funny at all. But you see what we science students have to live with? Do you now understand the plight of the science student? This is a bit too dramatized, this whole science student deal, but it is fun nonetheless. But if that above statement made sense to you, then it's no freaking big deal because this stuff is just basic. I mean, easy.
   And now treading the horrifying paths of Physics, guess what is the weirdest sounding term I've encountered lately? Viscosity. It sounds like the name of an Egyptian God, or maybe Greek, I'm not that bright mythologically speaking. And it is denoted by η (Eta, pronounced ee-ta). Now, Eta is like the estranged daughter of Viscosity and she has a distant brother who goes by the symbol θ (yes, you guessed it! Theta!) And the only reason why Eta is denoted by an 'n' with a longer stem and Theta by a circle with a halfway cut is because, well, they're distant siblings. They seperated when they were really young. Over time, Eta grew up to be much more cooler than Theta, hence the cooler symbol.

The awesomeness of Viscocity.

   Science can be fun too, ya know.
   :)

  My mind can't process things now. 
  Not that I ever had a Core i3 in my head or anything, but I'm even more slower(yes, two superlatives) now than I've ever known myself to be. 
  You know, it's sad when you come to realize that there is a lot of sadness in this world. Much greater sadness than that of being dumped by someone, much greater sadness than that of not having scored a satisfying percentage, much greater sadness than that of not having what you want. And these aren't merely saddening things; they're atrocities. And even if none of the atrocities ever happen to you, it remains far from not having an impact on you.
  What if the last time you get to see your father is when you're 16 years old? Or when you're 8 years old and you're running late for school, and your dad drops you off... what if that's the last time you ever get to say goodbye to him? So much for a last goodbye, huh? And how would you feel when you realize your life is not another novel with a 'fiction' tag on it?
  Ironically, one of my friends used that very word, atrocities, to describe my singing.
  What a revolting thought.
__________________________________________________________________________________


  This shall maintain by belief in the sanctity of the written word; never in my life would I have been able to speak these words. Ever.


  May their souls rest in peace. 


__________________________________________________________________________________

  I'm not in a particularly happy mood.
  I'm having misanthropic feelings. No, it's not another random word picked up from the dictionary. It means hatred for the human species. Or well, in essence it does.
  Humans suck. Hard.
  They're inefficient, they have feelings, and they eat for taste! Can you imagine not eating for taste! DAMN! Zebras and worms and animals - all of them eat just to freaking live! AND WHAT DO WE DO!? Spend a million bucks on food that is made exactly according to our preferences because we humans are just that freaking demanding! I'm not saying everyone does this, though. Let's not even talk about the darker side, I'm not in that sort of a mood. Eh. These feelings pass away in about, like, really short amounts of time.
  Like now, I don't hate humans so much. I just hate my brain. Or something. Meh. I don't even know.
  For my next life, I wish I end up a dog. Wait, no, I'm one in this life too. Nevermind. So then, I guess I'll choose to be a giraffe. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? I'll get eaten by a lion. Or maybe a bunch of lions. They'll tear my flesh apart slowly, and take turns sipping and licking my delicious, warm blood. And if that doesn't happen, I'll spend my life peacefully searching for a mate, hoping to beat other giraffes with some kind of genetic edge(genetic drift et natural selection) and happily chewing on tasteless grass.
  But isn't it weird that humans can NEVER be perfect? I mean, NEVER do they get to be perfect to everyone. Damn relativity. They can't even please everybody. Most humans end up pleasing tons more people than others, but that's just because... well... get the drift? Humans, however, do end up perfecting certain qualities. And they possess the quality to screw that up at times, too - thanks to their hormones, vices, and who freaking knows what. To explain concisely, drunk guitarists. Perfection is trivial, anyway. 
  Bleh.
  I haven't written anything good in a really long while. I want to write something about zombies. That'd be cool. I like zombies. They're awesome. And they're dead. A few of them are also called undead, but that's just retarded - they don't have a beating heart; so in biological terms, they're dead. I'm not much of a biologist, but I know this much.
__________________________________________________________________________________
   
  I happened to listen to the whole of Pink Floyd's Dark Side Of The Moon album.
  It's freaking awesome, to say the least.
  Two songs in particular, played in order continuously, kill me from the inside; not in a sad way but a nice way. Sounds corny, yeah. But no, seriously. Listen to it and you'll know. One's called Brain Damage, and the other one's Eclipse.
  I shall warn you beforehand. This is no song for the faint-hearted or the commercial clown. 
  Here...

  It's possibly just the song, but I really feel like I should be at a mental hospital or a psychiatric ward. You know, just to move around and look about and everything. Plus, they'd treat me like who I really am too. Moreover, I'd really want to meet a psychoanalyst. Psychoanalysts are really cool, I'd love to be one someday. For the while, though, I'd settle for being just psycho.

   I made new friends today. Well, it's been a long while I've been hanging with them and I still haven't figured if it's them who need my friendship or the other way round. Just in case you were wondering, they're called Vector and Scalar. One seems to be real simple(but isn't) and the other's a two-faced bitch. Both of them have products, too. A weird bunch, them dudes, really weird.
  To add to the misery of having made new friends that I'll probably have to remember for AT LEAST the next two years, my phone's battery attempted suicide. Which is just... sad. 
  Anyway, I'm still proud to say I did one thing in my holidays following the examinations that might ACTUALLY make a difference in my life: Studied Introduction To Vectors And Forces. That alone does make me happy. At least I'm freaking trying! I also started writing articles for Epigram Magazine, but the path I'm treading doesn't exactly have much to do with writing. I mean, yes if  you're talking weird Greek symbols, but otherwise, not really.
  So, yeah, other than that, nothing much. Just shit.
  I had a passionate discussion about Science with one of my bestest friends. He's a self-proclaimed atheist, and here's the conversation we had. (It's paraphrased)


Me: Dude, I went over the Physics Module. Some shit it is. 
Anish: I just returned from Physics tuition, man.
Me: Oh. Eleventh grade tuitions started already?
Anish: Yeah. 
Me: Oh. What did you study? Vectors?
Anish: Neh. Logarithms. It's not in the syllabus but they said it's important.
Me: Oh. Okay.
Anish: Numbers are now BOTH positive and negative.
Me: Nice. You know, Tighten Up by The Black Keys is going to be my anthem for the next
      two years.
Anish: Yeah? Why?
Me: Yeah. I'll sing, "I wanted love! I needed love! But I got Science instead!"
Anish: Haha. Yeah man. No wonder science students end up being hornier than the rest.
Me: I'll be able to vouch for that in exactly two years, man; so would you. And I don't 
      know if that's a good thing. 
Anish: True that. You know what? I wish God is real. 
Me: Why?
Anish: Because then, all science is wrong.
Me: Hmmm...
Anish: Think about scientists too, man! All of them must be rotting in hell.
Me: If hell's full of scientists, there's no way we're going there!
Anish: Haha! Let's hope. 


  We then discussed a little about Calculus, but mostly we discussed about how we were royally screwed. 
  Yeah, pretty much.
  I hope I have a happy tenure with Vectors, and Kinematics of Particles, Particles in Equilibrium and whatnot. And yes, Integration. I honestly hope I don't feel like disintegrating myself when I'm doing Integration. Jeez, I'd just rather do inflatable balloons. Okay, no, Integration sounds better.
  Sigh.
  Hope I am alive this same day in 2013. But technically, it won't be the same day and... 
  GODDAMMIT!

This has something to do with Kinematics. (O_o)

How must I feel?

The blackboard of feelings.

   I wrote this, like, 5 months back. I don't have any more heart in it to edit it or anything, so I'll just post it as it was. :D


   The tuition center had always been a place for him to go and study, and to learn something. So naturally, he felt guilty, if not angry, on having found someone to look at during classes lest he felt bored.
   Slowly and steadily, his interest in her grew. Without tilting his head - owing to his sitting at the back most of the time - he saw her looking at the teacher with a tinge of hope and a glint of anxiety as the papers were being distributed. He saw her smiling vividly, when their teacher cracked a joke. He saw her brush her hair back lightly with her hands, and light reflecting wildly off a ruby she wore on her ring finger. He saw her answering all the questions asked to her by their teacher, without doubt. And he saw her analyzing, with utmost concentration, a physics numerical that she couldn't crack, biting her lips with subdued uneasiness.
   He never talked to her. He never wanted to. He thought it'd break the image of perfection he had of her in his head. So, he never made any attempts. Consciously.
   He knew it wasn't love. It wasn't even an innocent infatuation they way he saw it. Not even a compulsive obsession.
   But whatever it was, it was unrequited.