On Mathematics and life

'...our pursuit of mathematics is meaningful because of the contrast between the certainty in the world of mathematics and the lack of certainty in the real world. Mathematics represents a very human attempt to reconcile ourselves with the desire for perfection and the lack of perfection in the real world...' - Lee Cheng Wei, the moody mathematician.

Kev says my thesis is profound. Completely explains why I've rewritten it three times, and now I have exactly 519 words. 2000 more to go baby. But I swear the whole essay is there, written at the back of my mind... it's just not within my means to get it out. (Doesn't help that I'm too lazy to read the endless essays on 'what is mathematics?')

Really, I don't hate mathematics. I don't even hate thinking about 'what is mathematics'. I only hate feeling that helplessness of being unable to write. Hate staying up until 4 everyday just to churn out 600 words. Hate the feeling of being, *gasp*, stupid.

Nevertheless, I finally went for a run at 12 just now, after more than a week. I always feel somewhat better after a run. Wonder if I've time for another one tomorrow.

Despite all the moodiness (pardon me, I tend to make a big fuss over work, as if I was the only person in this world feeling stressed over work), there's something alluring about sitting in my room alone - ignoring the fact that I'm about to tear my hair off my head along with all the math essays - it's just me, my pillow and music. There's something about music and late nights. For it calms the mind and soothes the soul. If I had a piano right now, I'm quite sure I could play random pieces for the next 2 hours.

opps, perhaps its a blessing then, for it's 4:20am, and I do not have the luxury of time.