In string theory, as in guitar playing, the string must be stretched under tension in order to become excited. However, the strings in string theory are floating in spacetime, they aren’t tied down to a guitar. Nonetheless, they have tension. The string tension in string theory is denoted by the quantity 1/(2 p a’), where a’ is pronounced “alpha prime”and is equal to the square of the string length scale.  If string theory is to be a theory of quantum gravity, then the average size of a string should be somewhere near the length scale of quantum gravity, called the Planck length, which is about 10-33 centimeters, or about a millionth of a billionth of a billionth of a billionth of a centimeter. Unfortunately, this means that strings are way too small to see by current or expected particle physics technology (or financing!!) and so string theorists must devise more clever methods to test the theory than just looking for little strings in particle experiments.


. In string theory, as in guitar playing, the string must be stretched under tension in order to become excited. However, the strings in string theory are floating in spacetime, they aren’t tied down to a guitar. Nonetheless, they have tension. The string tension in string theory is denoted by the quantity 1/(2 p a’), where a’ is pronounced “alpha prime”and is equal to the square of the string length scale.
. If string theory is to be a theory of quantum gravity, then the average size of a string should be somewhere near the length scale of quantum gravity, called the Planck length, which is about 10-33 centimeters, or about a millionth of a billionth of a billionth of a billionth of a centimeter. Unfortunately, this means that strings are way too small to see by current or expected particle physics technology (or financing!!) and so string theorists must devise more clever methods to test the theory than just looking for little strings in particle experiments.

(Source: bobrossgifs)

a girl fo realsz…

so, who owns who in this world? hmm? have you ever thought of the eventual crushing of mankind under the weight and bureaucracy of owning property? chronologically, property was owned before armies, and armies before crime, crime before corruption, corruption before slavery. every person has claimed to own these problems as responsibility in one way and another (nation leaders seem to try to take personal responsibility for these things), and yet, as time spews forth more people these problems multiply, like a festering sickness as we push ourselves as a population into oblivion, and all for what? why do we, as individuals, have to have the RIGHT to property? why can’t we call ourselves outlaws like we know we are, in some way, we all respond to the sickness that is our system. we repel the thought from our heads until they stop spinning, with a why why why the fuck am i here?!?! that fucking question kills all by inches. like a cancer, the need for purpose grows and grows, until the system that instills it in us makes us take plastic incentives for our hollow lives. Our current economic system depends upon people getting fucked so the few can make exponential profits, with no justice for the poor. I dont even want to start. NO WONDER people turn to god for the answers. This simple fact weighs on my soul, a black hand trying to crumple any sense of self, any empowering feelings must first check with this blackened taskmaster. Whip my soul into a malleable wad of pulsating flesh, robbed of its ability to survive, and then dependent upon the system in which it is born. there is another option, and i will take it, and its not death. i will grow my own garden. i will stop eating things from outside the us. i will brace for impact for when the system that so desperately needs me to survive devours itself from the inside out. and then, i will be free. or i will die first. either way, peace… 

oh dear.

SO yesterday, i became in touch with something that, I think, is worth noting. I touched again that thing which people call evil. I felt it. That blackness which is external, that motivates you to do horrible things. It’s not so much a thing that brings about negative emotions; It is only present when i am downtrodden and defeated by the world around me. It’s a prescence that only is felt, in fact only arrives, when I am at my most irrational. But it’s not me. Not to personify this black mass, but it seems to help me survive under mental conditions which should destroy me. Quite an odd property of my universe, I assure you. 

I’d like to talk about the inside mental conditions that brought about an opportunity to be in touch with that which doesn’t exist (evil). I wonder, if a mirror had feelings, and it was being shattered, if it would feel like i did last night; this afternoon, I feel shattered, into odd shapes of all assortments. I’m not so sure I want to be whole the same way i was before if it has brought these emotions to me. Well anyways, yesterday, I was at the hookah bar for about an hour, and then a profound sadness came upon me. 

Sorry, i cant keep on writing aobut this. Maybe next time, when im not so fucking sore inside. 

you know, things are looking up

I dont know why, but teh more i talk to myself, the better things get. I truly am the only one who understands me, is there when im alone, can pick me up when i fall. I will tell myself its alright when the demons come prowling, looking for any sign of weakness, to slide in and cause pain. A simple, cooing, everything is going to be alright. Thats waht i give myself, and, lo and behold, everything always is just alright. Now, I want things to be better, better, better. I need a new set of rules that will help me to be better. 

1. If you can do it right the first time, do it right the first time. 

2. If your slacking, dont. Its not worth it later. 

3. Do more now. Time is not promised to you.

4. My time is mine alone. I choose how to spend it. 

5.Show up.

6.Show up on time.

7. Always do your best work. There will be a time when you can’t.

I think these aren’t bad rules for the code of Ryan. WHat do you mutha-lovers think?

why is it so much work to give a fuck?

i dont know about you guys but it seems to me that it is so hard to care about anything. motivation seems out of reach. i have not even a desire to express myself. eating, i dont give a fuck about my diet. im depressed again. fuuck. dude. i want to not be depressed. and not act like it. 

the 26th.

So i stumbled upon a writing exercise that might help me to clarify things in my life. Let us see what it is all about. 

"If it were possible, would I like to be happier and suffer less?"

yes, of course i would. 

1.What are you unhappy about?

I am unhappy about my lack of independence, negative self-view, lack of confidence, lack of guitar skills, lack of happiness, lack of intelligence.

2. What do you mean?

I am unhappy that I choose not to leave teh house and take out loans when I have a clear way to do it. I am unhappy that i don’t wash the dishes on a regular basisand do my laundry.

I am unhappy that I choose to view myself in such a negative light. It’s horrible the way I treat myself, and I just want to stop. 

I want to be confident so I can land the girl of my dreams, but I dont know how to be when I am constantly knocking myself down. 

I want to be a great musician, and I still believe its in me, but i have to try way way harder than i am now to get it out of me. 

I want to be smart more than anything, and its so hard to be smart. I dont know if i’ll ever be intelligent.

3. What is it about these issues that make you unhappy?

My lack of independence makes me unhappy because I value independence so much. That is something I really want at this point in my life, and I have to make it for myself, and I am not, and I am really irritated at this. But it seems that no matter how much I blame myself, the intended result never occurrs. I never make meaningful steps towards independence.  

My negative self-view stems largely from my lack of independence. FUCK im sick of writing. fuck this. …or not. 

march 25th.

Man am I complicated. It is so hard for me to be aware of how I am feeling. And then to admit that it has an influence on my thought processes under the radar is a hard thought to swallow. The fact, in my mind, lends itself to my lack of self-esteem; instead of a tool of progress, I use it to decrease my self-esteem. I do not know how to turn it around. But it is there. And it must be observed, as a minimum to my future happiness on this earth. It is immovable as the fact that i exist; as long as I am here, what I feel will affect how I think. So much in my life hinges on this simple fact; simply, my judgment, which I, like most humans, like to think, is fair, is in fact biased by the influence of the perception of my environment. 

I feel like I’m going insane. I’m just not like the people I fill my life with. But I’m mostly like them. More than most. I don’t…. my words are empty vessels. Nothing I say is filled with me anymore. It’s like automaton Ryan; the shell looks the same, but there is no content to my words, I am not present in any given moment. I feel like shit, I need my fucking perspective tweaked so bad. And its up to me to do it. I feel overwhelmed. BY the great obstacle that is myself. I am what I think I am. And I think I need to sleep. OR not. I don’t care where or what I am anymore. This is like death, I think. Complete apathy; If I was before life, this is the only way I would be able to bear it. 

so.. i hate myself again….

i always seem to find myself here again. All alone, because i took the necessary action to separate myself from friends who would try to help me. In hatred of myself, because noone likes me and i don’t like myself (or thats what i tell myself). I feel useless, and then proceed to act like it. This is not life as i imagined it being, and i know there is something better out there for me to grab, I’ve just got to earn it with persistent and dedicated work. 

I absolutely hate myself, because i believe i am a piece of shit. I don’t act mean towards anyone, but yet again i dont do anything useful for the community either. I don’t even hold a job. WHat the fuck am i doing on this ball of dirt? I am a leper to the system, taking and leaching other’s hard work so i can just barely scrape by in classes. I don’t think about my actions well, and i take shelter in other’s lack of self-awareness to justify my meandering output of effort. WHat is wrong with me, seriously, im capable of so much more, and if i dont start dishing out, my friends are going to notice and slowly slip away…

I cut myself off from my friends because i believe that they wouldnt want anything to do with me anyways. I see it as i am sick because i believe the last paragraph i wrote, and that makes me undesirable to hang out with. Then i proceed to avoid the eyesore that i believe people will see me as, and move away from them to save face. Then i get sick of myself because i believe i have a face to save. I dont. My friends like me as i am. But its far away from me now, that saying. Its like the edge of a ring of light on the eclipse of the sun, barely visible.

i act dumb when i feel dumb. I dont want to act dumb. I constantly judge what i am doing, and then use it against me whenever i can to keep my self-esteem at as low a level as possible. I am scared if i change my esteem that my friends wont like me anymore, and that ill just collapse. I am scared of what it would be like to have high self-esteem. I tell myself that things would just be better off this way, if i just stopped trying, that everything will get better. And this is a dumb proposition, because you have to try to keep on living, on a basic level life is trying, but im scared to believe it, because something inside me wants to side with the idea that not trying is better.

I imagine life as being so much better than what i have now. I imagine me laughing genuinely at things, instead of feeling threatened by not laughing. I imagine not feeling like im stuck in a never ending vortex of beating myself up until i convince myself to be a living malleable pulp. I want to voluntarily adapt to my situation as i see fit, not by the point of a gun. I imagine me stopping playing video games and getting good at guitar.

I think there are better things out there for me, but the enemy is time. the thing i cannot change, it takes too long for results. i have not learned the patience to deal with myself and do the right things for myself and i want it bad. I really really do. Noone thinks like i do about my life and i am very lonely. i believe i can be better and i dont think others see it, which saddens me. Or, if they do, then they wonder why im not unlocking it. I want help, and i dont know how to find it, its really depressing. I can see where i am, i can see where i want to be, but i have no path. 

what day is it?

Haven’t posted in a while. I wonder if its bad that i want to fight, and i did. I fought my friend Brian Rice today. I am bruised, damaged, and i bled. But, i felt better than i usually do, and i was able to do my work fine right after. I guess im just passive aggressive, and being openly aggressive feels great.

I punched him in the face and knocked him right on his ass. Then he got up, kicked me, moved forward, and knocked me in th jaw. We were fistfighting. My face is swollen, but i dont even care. I dont care about much lately, and this is something that i dont care about that feels fun. Maybe its the nihilist in me, but i dont think it really matters. Face shots are no big deal. 

Ethan hackett played too. He wrestles Brian Rice, it was funny as fuck. Ethan won. I need steve to kick Ethan’s ass. It would be funny. 

I also worked out, which was fun. 

BEsides the fighting, im still depressed as fuck. I dont want to be a part of the system, i dont want them to be in my head. i can go through the motions while safely withholding my thoughts, myself, from the crushing structure that i seem to feel around me. I neeed to listen to myself alot alot more…

march 12th… met a girl.

so, i saw a girl… and she made my head spin. she was so attractive… it was so easy to look at her. and she danced… and i was very turned on. of course, shes in a long term relationship, with a dude, and a kid. seems to happen alot these days to me, im always attracted to those in a really good place. hey, i know what i like, and she was it. jebus, havent felt that attracted to a girl in like a year, methinks. it was beautiful.

as i was sitting at the hookah bar, i realized something: i decide who i am, i am fully responsible for the state of my life as it is, and i have done things for myself that i dont think i would have done a long time ago. like:

tell a girl how gorgeous i thought she was

decide that im going to pursue musicianship

love myself, even for an hour. 

make friends.

I hope i can learn to make enemies. this will be one of my biggest triumphs. when i do it it will be. its all about dedication and orginization. i will be famous. i swear it. someday…. im going to be known for something. i need it like i need water. its just a seed today though. its my job to cultivate it. do more for myself, it leads to more doing for myself. 

fuck im awesome.

march 9th… 48 fucking hours?!?!?!

YO, WHAT THE FUCKS UP WITH SPANISH?! I calculated, and I must spend 48 hours a week on just spanish. I hope its not like this in the future… that i spend 48 Hours a week doing something I hate to perpetuate a life I dont want. This, if i do it well enough, will be my last semester of pure torture. this class is ruining the rest of my grades too. all that time learning spanish is fucking up my ability to socialize and stay motivated. I hate to admit that i have limits and believe it, but i think ive reached my limit. if i have to keep up this pace for more than a semester, than i think im going to shit myself and die. FUUUUCCCKKKK….

seriously, what the fuck…. i cant even express how pissed i am about this…..=(

march 7th…who the fuck am i?

so, my friend greggy approached this question… but i think i may be as confused as him. WHo the fuck am I? Well, one thing is certain: I am here, and I am writing. So I exist, and I do stuff. What else am I? Well, I am also confined to my universe… I can’t do things in the 4th dimension, make a square circle exist, etc… so I am limited by my environment; I am not limitless, therefore finite. My will not be, I am mortal. I am made up of and am constantly switching atoms with my environment. I am of this universe strictly; I have no soul. 

So I am the will to do, channeled through matter, and restricted by the rules in my universe. But that doesn’t answer who I am at all. I think I’m missing the point and enjoying it :). Anyways, the real issue: Am I my issues? I feel like this is a pretty serious thing to think about. Everyday, I must struggle with the decision to decide to be happy. I am challenging some pretty heavy matter in my personality. I am challenging many communication patterns, both with myself, and with others. I am challenging by ego to the hilt. I am not a piece of shit…. this simple statements feels so perverse in my body, in my chest it causes an uncomfortable tightness, myself unable to comprehend myself, acting like a child in fear of the boogeyman. There is no boogeyman. Just a challenge disguised as a hateful destructive unstoppable being. FUck him is to fuck me. Its the weirdest thing, i refuse to fight myself, it doesnt help, but what am i to call it, if im not fighting? am i peacefully protesting? WHO KNOWS. I feel so stressed, but if im deciding to be happy… ry, its the cost, your discomfort os the cost of your comfort….

deadlines dont change. people will adapt to them. matter does not change. if i want water, i must go get it. no feat of emotion can bring a drop of water to my lips, a single life giving drop will not reach my lips my wish. ive been taught differently, like the world owes me a little somethign for being smart. the world owes me nothing. zero. zip. it will not comprimise, there is always a minimum. you must always do so good. you must always eat so much to live. you must always drink so much. you must die. its all so hard for me. my emotions tell me to say that its not true. i need to grow up. how much more proof in my life do i need besides the trees and the desert? really, emotions what do you want me to send you? i cant unwrite moms very fluid system of heirarchies, but nature does not compromise. 

march 6th scared

today, i am scared. for my life. i have been talking to a very pretty asian for the last 2 hours, and i am already behind… what the fuck ive got to learn to let people go. she actually likes talking to me. ive got to understand that. even though we dont really talk ive got to understand that there is SOME part of me that people can actually like that doesnt have to do with me providing a service for them. people like me just for me. and thats almost impossible to comprehend…. i dont know why it is so hard for me to understand, they love my sense of humor, no matter the length of time that passes between us, and people ARE genuine to me, even if they dont always know how to be genuine to themselves. fuck. i am tired as shit and am not sleeping tonight… have lots of work to do. and a presentation tomorrow, shit! i found out that i can only get a c tops if i get perfect grades in my speech class from now on. its pretty much bullshit. the guy does not want me to continue taking tests. i feel like i wont ever be good enough unless im a rock star… also, my head came back with a vengeance today. the fuck you head, im a mess you up because you felt good yesterday head. whenever id fuck up studying, hed be all like “fuck you ryan, you cant do this” and then… i couldnt. 

god my own inner dialogue is tough. i get guilty every time i dont do work like i said i would. and tonight is one of those nights. damn, it almost feels like its completely out of my control, like i dont get to decide if i feel guilty or not. but i can. and i shouldnt feel guilty. i just shouldnt have tlaked to carleen for that long. 

fuck. its such a fucking head game inside my head, i tire of it so easily, but ive got to remember the positive side of it at the end: self-respect. And that can’t be bought, sold, or traded: it can only be earned. and earn it i will. and noone will recognize the struggle in my head i go through ever yday to be happy, but i will respect it. and that will be enough. but i lost today, but i dont ever have to lose again from now on. its worth the work, the struggle to treat myself like a human being, it is it is it is….. 

march 5th, and I am happy.

So today, I felt like I did alot of work… I read 20 pages of bio, which took about 4 hours (mostly processes, take awhile for me to understand). I created spanish notecards for the 4 grammar rules, which is both very stressful and time consuming… and I wrote 10 sentences in spanish using the brand new rules. and i think i understood everything. If only i had more time to understand Bio i would be a much happier douchebag. 

Today, i had alot of trouble staying focused, like mondo trouble. I even had trouble working with my metronome, staying at 60 BPM and making music. today was not a day of focus. it was a day of struggle, but i stayed with it, and avoided the dark alleyways of my mind that disguise themselves as both comforting and ultimately fruitful. I did not focus on the flaws and ignore the good. i had a much more accurate view of today, and i feel positive and refreshed upon looking at my ability to do when i forget that i cant. 

tomorrow is looking better than yesterday… and hopefully it is….