F, the bald guy, is renovating his house. He’s been living in the same house for years. When you walk in the house, you can immediately feel the high entropy. Everything in the house is disintegrating or decomposing. Years ago, when F was building the house, he was not bald. He had hope for life. He put a spectacular bathtub in the bathroom, he designed a walk-in robe near his bedroom.
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J finishes his breakfast and rides his bike to a temple. J is a guru there. J has a little room in the temple, where he talks with people. When there is no one to talk to, J looks out the door, makes eye contact with whomever, and welcomes him or her in. Thousands of people visit the temple every day. Most of them just hang around, take a few photos, then post the pictures somewhere on the internet.
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Life is excretion. A good shit experience feels nice, maybe that explains why we are always excreting. We eat food and produce excrement. We inhale fresh air and produce foul air. We take a shower and produce tons of polluted water. We fight and produce corpses. We consume Coca-Cola and produce commercials of nonsense. We put flowers in a vase and produce dead flowers. We buy new phones and produce dead phones in the drawer.
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We are nothing but language. But I am sick of our languages. The language we use is rudimentary. Use math as an analogy, our language only knows additions and subtractions, and while doing this basic operation it includes a lot of redundant steps with unneeded zeros. It’s slow, ambiguous, obscure, twisted, vague and toxic. I wish there is a just language, a powerful language, a simple language, a perfect language, a language that conveys messages without distortion, a language that allows people to express their feelings without hesitation, a language that connects people.
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The people who still buy candles nowadays carry the fire worship gene from their ancestors.


J eats breakfast. BREAK! FAST! Biscuit with coffee is J’s breakfast. In the morning, J eats biscuits, drinks coffee, then pours tap water to wash down the coffee stain in the mug. He then drinks the coffee flavor water. After all these, and of course, the things he does in the toilet, J goes out. J is a man or a woman? I don’t know. J is mysterious. J likes M.
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E carries an egg timer with her. She always keeps the timer on, so her day is cut to multiple intervals by the egg timer. When she works, she starts the timer, trying to fully dedicate herself to the job until the timer rings, at which time she starts the timer again to relax as much as possible, until it rings, again. E likes this timer idea, so she uses this methodology to think about the methodology itself.
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$$\mathbf{p} = m\mathbf{v}$$ Where there is mass and velocity, there is momentum. Being a vector, it has a direction. The momentum of the human’s mindset is a multidimensional vector, and it’s changed through collisions. The collision happens when we are reading, listening, touching, and of course, thinking. Everything we experience contributes to this matrix transformation. Cogito, ergo sum.


Phlegm can have different colors. You feel absolute pleasure when you get rid of a chunk of nasty phlegm in your throat. It’s similar to a good defecation experience. But people are more familiar with defecation, so diluting the pleasure. There was a joke that’s been impressing me since I was a kid. Two guys walk into a theater, they see a spittoon in the corner. So they make a bet, the one with the courage to take a bite of the phlegm in the spittoon gets a free movie ticket from the other one.
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D, a time traveler, enters 2019 from 2049. D runs into her younger self in Tiananmen Square, young D isn’t surprised by the presence of old D. Instead, young D asks old D if the Mao portrait still hangs there in 2049. “Oh yeah, it was replaced by Andy Warhol Mao.”