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Rainman220

of

Princeton, NJ, US

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A Mathematician's Frustration

by

Rainman220

A just read book, an unfinished essay, a myriad of meaningless symbols,

A pen

Half-filled with ink,

Or perhaps as says the cliche,

Half empty as well;

A can of coke, a seedy plate with remnants of my meal

Lying lonely by the table

For eleven days or more...

Ideologies, rhapsodies, theories

Ideas, revelations and transgressions...

A thesis to be produced.

A poor student chasing a paper

Or hoping to better the lives,

Naively and

Ardently,

Expecting

Or craving

The knowledge preserved in books,

Perused over the pages,

Would answer the unknown riddles to solve the mysteries of life.

A single point -

One more

Producing a line in unison-

Others combine and shapes

Are created of complex forms,

Of higher dimensions

And splendor-

Filling the space and defining emptiness,

Providing the world with a certain definitiveness-

The answer appears translucent,

As the shapes possess the holes

Which appeared bizarre and fuzzy

And the world becomes more prosaic overall.

Lies, perhaps buried in lies,

The validity of the

Being

Of the two innocent points,

And the concepts related to them..

The axioms which can't be proved.

Yet needs and desires fulfilled

The points may exist in peace

A skeptic cannot live-

Asking why we survive

Diminishes our urge to live.

A moronic paradox

Programmed by evolution

Perhaps by mother nature

Into the equations that dictate the games.

Life must indeed go on,

And we write in black and white

The secrets we have learnt.