Author: Jacob

You know those doors that close automatically? I recommend yanking them open and walking through in a burst of air like a character from a movie.

Languages are funny. Like somehow we all decided that some silly sounds mean things. Why aren’t there more disagreements on what sounds go with what things?

What does it mean to really live? Maybe this question is best approached by defining its opposite. It cannot be boring or tiresome, gray or passive. So to really live must be exciting, fascinating, bright, and energizing. That’s how I want to live.

I’m not sure what to say. Things, I guess. I want to run through fields of flowers. I want to write next to a clear creek. I want to fly kites and sing. How far away am I?

I thought it would be easier to make friends in college. I feel an almost constant heaviness of unbelonging. It’s a new level of loneliness to be surrounded by people 24/7 and still be alone.

I’m watching “Your Lie in April” for the third time. I love it so much.

32 times! Is that average? Does it matter?

I love it when people smile, although it doesn’t happen often. I wonder how much I smile. It’s experiment time!

There’s something about looking up. Even when I’m not looking at anything, looking up just hits different.

I’m realizing how much my physical environment affects my work. I can bring things into a space which makes them small. Research papers don’t seem so intimidating when I’m sitting among the trees listening to crickets.

I love walking at night and listening to Moon River by Jacob Collier. I love looking up at the stars and feeling the air rush over my hands.

This is quickly becoming an obsession, although I’m not sure how to define it. Maybe it’s the opposite of depression. I want to really live.

I can’t stop thinking about the idea of wonder. I want old maps and bubbles over green fields and rain on bright days. I want to discover everything.

I’ve been thinking and I want to live in the dream side of the real world. I want to find joy in everything. I’m looking for wonder.

Everything I do on the computer boils down to a very long string of simple actions. It’s just lots of pressing buttons in the right order. The system that determines their order may be complex, but the output is simple. Weird to think about, isn’t it?