?Healthy human¿

On boxes of Special K cereal and other food products you will see text saying that you need to have a healthy heart. In this interest I am starting this blog.

One of the things that kept me going in Paris was exercise. I kept my body healthy. Yes, I got sick my usual 3 times (which is generally the number of times each semester) but after some adjustments I stayed fine and didn't fall to bacteria or virii at all, save my gums, but that's my dentist's fault largely.

In Paris I realized a large number of things. The most important thing, as far as I can tell, that I realized is that I have a disconnection with my heart. Well, for one thing, a disconnection with feeling. I don't feel that much pain. Sometimes it's that I don't like feeling it; sometimes it's just that I'm good at avoiding it, so I do. I mean, like I stretch to prevent pain and soreness before and after running or other physical activity, I do other things to avoid pain and soreness in the mental sense. Everyone does this. But this is instinctual, and sometimes you don't know your own instincts. In any case, stretching doesn't always prevent injury, meaning you don't feel the pain until it all really hurts. That's kind of what happened in Paris. I'd been ignoring what my heart had been yelling at me. I didn't really understand that it was there, that something separate from the control of the brain could really be such an integral part of me. Something that couldn't be summed up with an integral.

So I guess what it's time for me to explore is what my heart feels. I understand that it's there now. After my incidental story in Paris came to a finis I've started saying things that I don't really feel before I say them, but that seem rather honest after I speak them out. I guess that's the heart speaking for me. And I guess that means one thing - you need to speak the heart too in order to be honest.

No wonder honesty is such a scary thing. But the thing is, it's like I don't know what my heart feels until the right words leave my mouth, and then I've found it. It's like trial and error, like let me start expressing opinions regardless of whether they're true by my brain's deduction, and then I've found the one I believe in. Sometimes the brain just stops anyway and it can't get any further. That's why a lot of people try drugs. You can get the same without them, though. To sum it up, though, I mean, my brain doesn't completely know my heart. Can it?

And finally, a blog whose direction I can't predict. This should be fun. I've got a good full three months ahead of me. Of course my heart and my brain combine to tell me that not even that is guaranteed, but then again is it really guaranteed that the flavor in your blueberry muffin will be what you expect every time? I guess my heart still cares, though, and my heart wants to knock on wood. Remember what I did that one time when someone told me to knock on wood, though? Knocking on wood is the brain's process. Knocking on something with which one can commonly associate the word "wood," though, is the heart's wild-ass silliness. That's what I did.

I guess my heart really is there. Good. Time to welcome it back into my life, just like America welcomes me back when I leave. Is it really necessary to have such a celebration? No, but why not?

I remember when I was a kid, I asked a question in class asking why we don't have Christmas and Easter every 32 years instead of year. Because Jesus died when he was like 32, right?

Oh, the brain of a child. Apparently I'm supposed to be incapable of "truly" new mathematical discoveries now, because I'm too old. They keep pushing back the age of incapability, though; apparently now it's 25? What does that even mean? Does it mean that if at a certain point you're still making those discoveries, you haven't matured past childhood? You're dangerously immature, vain and naive?

Weirdness. I guess I personally get to a certain point where I realize that I don't care for the progress of mathematics as much as my own personal progress. And that makes things okay in regard to the last thing.

The free time of summer passes freely as the birds chirp gaily and I don't have to think about things like this or anything in particular. Nice.