Tag Archives: conversations

On Math, Variables And Constants

He sidled up from behind and peered over my shoulder as I busily scribbled at my desk.

“You are doing Math?”

“You gave me a fright. Yes, I am. Why?”

His grin quickly changed into a look of seriousness when I turned around with a scrutiny of evaluation. He let out a cough at my gaze of suspicion before continuing.

“Well. ‘Y’ is indeed the question.”

“Ehm.. why?”

It was starting to feel like we were pulling neverending puns on each other.

“You know how there are variables in Math equations, represented by letters like ‘y’ and ‘x’ and et cetera?”

“Uh… yeah…?”

“And how usually the value of ‘y’ changes with the value of ‘x’ or vice versa?”

“Umm, yea?”

Was it going to be a revision of calculus? He let out a chortle, as if reading my thoughts at that moment.

“Now, you would say these variables are affected by each other, won’t you? In whatever way they are related.“

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Now, consider the constant in a relation, sometimes abbreviated endearingly as ‘c’. It is an important part of it, but yet it remains unchanged, regardless what happens to either or both variables.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

I was getting more and more perplexed. He must have noticed, and thus let out a reassuring grin before continuing.

“So, assuming both the variable and the constant in a relationship could take on positive values only. The variable could still result in a negative result, but the constant always positively amplifies the outcome. That right?”

He continued, looking at me, still smiling.

“My Math question for you today is: assuming you are a positive value. Would you choose to be a variable, subjected to the fluctuations of other variables, or would you choose to be an unwavering constant?”

He gave me a bright grin, then sauntered away, whistling.

I think I know my answer.

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No Pics Today

Today I didn’t make any pics
While I was spending time with
Fam and having a simple meal, just
Like the good ol’ days when
Privacy was still valued
Conversations were audible
And time slowly spent gazing
Truly into their eyes.

Merry Christmas. 😉

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Conversing Birds

I flopped into the couch and sighed loudly. He looked up, amused. I sighed again and pouted.

“It’s so difficult being real.”

“Why is that?”

“There’s so much hatred and self-centeredness out there. There’s just no point. No one cares anymore.”

He closed the book.

“What do you propose to do then?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe I’ll just not go out that much anymore. It’s all so tiring.”

“Listen. What do you hear right now, outside the window?”

If there were such a thing as squinting my ears, that was what I did right then.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Listen carefully.”

It was then that I heard it. The quiet chirping of a bird. But it was so soft that I would not have noticed it.

“It’s a bird chirping.”

“That’s right. Now, listen again and tell me what you hear.”

This time, I was getting the hang of this little exercise.

“Ah, there’s another bird. No, wait actually there’re two more.”

The birds were sounding pretty lovely actually, sort of like they were having an animated conversation.

“You see, the first little bird was just chirping the way he knows how to. The way he should. That is his nature.”

“And at first, he was just chirping by himself. But then, you heard another one responding to him. And there was a third. And it all started sounding pretty amazing. It became a beautiful three-voice song.”

He looked at me, smiling.

“But here’s the thing. No one could hear him at first. And even when he could be heard, not everyone likes his song.”

“Still, he continued singing that melody, not changing it or replicating another bird’s tune, because that’s what he was made to sing.”

“He’s just being himself. He’s being real.”

“And look what happened: other birds came. They understood what he was singing and responded to him, and now they’re having a mighty fine session.”

“I think I know what you’re saying…”

He gave me a wink before reopening the book.

“You do.”

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French Wine

Have you ever been to Paris?

No, but I’ve been kissed by a Frenchman, so you could say I’ve had a taste of France.

I’ll bring some French wine when we meet, then our kiss will get a French taste.

French taste, Italian body.
I am referring to the wine, of course.

Of course.

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Balancing Conversations

I walk along the edge of our
Conversations, careful not to
Lose my balance with the
Things I say, that I may not
Fall to my emotional death, but
Retire in time to live another day.

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Over A Morning Latte

I was clearing out my drafts when I found this one that was started sometime ago (last draft was dated September 10, 2014 20:16!). This seems the best way to conclude it, because though this chapter has been closed, the story never actually ends. 😉

This morning, I was at my usual cafe, picking up my regular coffee. When I pushed open the door, who should I see but him, sipping a latte and reading the papers. He looked up as I entered and smiled.

“Hey there, so how’s things been?”

“You should know better than I,” I half grumbled, sitting down in front of him.

“Ah. That sudden interruption to your daily routine you mean? It must seem quite a distraction and so unsuspecting,” he smiled again, taking another sip.

“Distraction? It turned my life upside down! It confused and distorted! It threw me off balance! It was total destruction! And I’m not out of it yet…” I muttered.

“Now, now. It’s not that bad. Think of it as, well, a sort of training. You know how we practise to better our techniques, or beat our high scores.”

“Training? For what?” I was suddenly curious.

Annoyingly, he decided on that moment to take an eternal sip from his cuppa. When he finally placed it back on the table, he smiled.

“Well you’ll know soon enough, when the time is right.”

And his timing is always right.

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Conversations in the Garden

Me: (Stands and watches) Those branches are so magnificent though. Do they really have to be cut away?

He: (Stops and looks at me with a grin) They are indeed beautiful. But right now, they could only grow this much. (Looks a little more intently at me) Yet if I trim them a little, they would extend that much more out.

Me: (Puts hand on tree thoughtfully, looking up still) It looks painful though. I mean imagine cutting off pieces of me.

He: (Laughs, then looks at me with that look in his eyes) Well, I suppose it might hurt a little; that’s how it goes right now, I’m afraid. But look beyond this temporary discomfort, because the final outcome will be a masterpiece.

I believe it will be. 🙂

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