Laboratory of Mathematics and Writing

Corruption City Darkness consumes No sun will rise Welcome to our city; the city of the future. Convenience and pleasure all at your beck and call Recieve your reward a few pieces of paper to spend at your leisure Selling your soul to the city The daily routine of toiling for trinkets has you strung out and feeling depressed All human connection seems so distant drink away the pain a few shows to distract In the neon lights in the downtown rain you begin to wonder why everything's the same You won't continue this mindless game of breaking your soul for someone else's gain Reach out to who's out...

World's End In a clash of melancholy, The world will end. All the flowers of the Earth shall burn into a crisp. The fish of the sea, the birds, and the trees all die as one with humanity. Tossed into oblivion eternity of nothing thrown into emptiness. Will we be born again? The world set ablaze a fire in the sky. Inferno consumes the land All perish; die. Weep not for the critters or your loved ones. Today is the day we all meet the same fate Tossed into oblivion, eternity of nothing, thrown into emptiness, Will we be born again? In a clash of melancholy, The world will end. All the flowers of the Earth shall burn into a crisp. The fish of the sea, the birds, and the trees All die as one with humanity.

Tears of the Stars A crying star that's not ready to fall. The light is dim, but refuses to fade away. So it will continue weeping. Its tears flowing way down to the ocean. But the ocean is just a mirror; A reflection of all the stars glittering in the dark. All these stars have dreamed a thousand dreams. And just like the stars themselves, some dreams have had their lights dimmed and fade away into darkness. Others remain weeping. Is there no respite; no quenching of their immortal desire? But still others continue to shine brightly. The light of a thousand suns to warm all the hearts of innumerable planets beyond. Brighter still are the drops that crash into the ocean generateripples transform into waves that depart from the ocean surface to form new stars that shine the brightest.

Flowers of My Youth Throughout the soft days of October, During a burgeoning harvest moon, And the brightness of the sun has already waned. I give you this: The Flowers of My Youth. They only come in a narrow array of colors. Vibrant reds, watery blues, creamy whites, and shadowy grays. For each color gets us closer to the sunset at the edge of the ocean. Sailing alongside the albatross across the open waves. Delivery us, oh gods of the sea, in a lovely small boat decorated with my flowers to where the fields are overgrown with them as far as the eye can see.

The Crying Ogre Only in the deep blue lake will you find the seven colored fish that will feed the hungry ogre that is starving for just one ounce of meat. Yes, ogres have feelings, too. Its rotted heart cries out for deliverence. But it can't cry out to the stars, or the moon, or the sun, or the clouds in the sky. The same way you learned to despise the ogre for it's strange appearance and cannibalistic ways is the same way the ogre curses every thing you believe to be beautiful. So, it cries out to every terrible omen; to the eclipse, to the will-o-the-wisp, to the serpent of Eden, and to the volcanic eruptions that spew lava onto the Earth and into the sky. Sulfuric black clouds cover the sky and the ogre is pleased. Molten rock covers the ground and heats up the water. The seven colored fish gets cooked alive. So the ogre sits down for a delicious meal of boiled fish.

The Great Reset Under a pale grey sky dimmed by the perpetual fog of the electric factories. Mechanical animals prowling the streets. You're plugged into the future where we stare at ourselves; admire our avatars, And feel good for owning nothing. It's okay. The masters will take care of us. Go back to your pod. And drink some bug juice that you purchased with universal basic income. Log in a few more hours in the virtual world. This is the future we wanted. Everything they have given us; they can easily take it away. If we don't comply, they'll take everything away. And you don't want to live in flyover country. Not with those people! We will comply. Our livelihood depends on it. We have no autonomy. We can't produce anything on our own. That's okay. We enjoy the comfort of the modern world. After all, nothing is truly ours.      Nothing is truly ours.

The flowers will not bloom. They are sprouting feet to run off into the wilderness. The moon won't shine. It's turning its face towards the outskirts of the Milky Way. The owls; they neglect the stars As they bury their beaks into their bosom. Now the clouds obscure the sunrise. They refuse to reveal the Sun's golden face.      Oh, dreamer. One morningrise, When the owls spread their wings and fly to the horizon in search of rest, and the moon and stars fade away into the dawn, The sun's rays will penetrate the clouds, Allowing the daylight to flow into the valley. The flowers will return from their woodland rest. No longer will you hear the mournful song of the owl. Listen to the blithe melody of the robin as it returns from daybreak. Join all of God's creatures in joyous song and dance.

These flowers won't open their corollas in the sun. The heat is too strong and may damage      their delicate petals;      their delicate pistils;      their delicate stamen. So, they hide them from the sun's rays away from the harsh light. They remain tucked in their sepals      where no one may see them.      Where no one may smell them.      Where no one may desire to pick them and gift them to their beloved. Only under the light of the moon will they open their corollas and release their fragrance to the wind. So that the insects may breathe. So that the birds may sing. So that the squirrels may dream.      But above all, so that the moon may smile at all the vibrant colors and breathe, sing, and dream alongside the creatures of the Earth Amongst a tapestry of flowers that cover the field      with all the...

En un desierto donde jamas nascen las flores y las arenas queman las criaturas debajo el sol ardiente. Alli es donde enterre los huesos de mis pajaros. Donde logre dejar todas sus plumas debajo las piedras, los montes, y la tierra seca. Aqui no corre el agua y la vida es escasa. Por eso estoy seguro que las alas jamas veran la luz del dia. Pero cuando visita la luna desde su reino en las estrellas, El viento trae las nubes desde lejos Un rayo parte el cielo. La lluvia cae mientras un suspiro surge de las arenas. Y con alas blancas, la paloma se levanta hacia el cielo para so&ntildear al lado de la luna.

You know what? I don't understand all this ethnic pride business. Like me, I'm Mexican, but I'm not really proud of it. I was born this way. I didn't have any control over it. I didn't accomplish being a Mexican. My parents were both Mexican, they fucked, and then spawned me, another hairy brown motherfucker. It just happened. I'll tell you what I am proud of. I am proud of being so damned good at guitar. I practiced every day. I'm proud of being able to play Chopin on the piano. I sat in front of the keyboard hammering away until I got it down. I'm proud of being able do all kinds of complicated math shit. It required effort and patience to obtain those fancy degrees. I'm proud of being able to write coherent and vivid poetry. It's gay, but it nevertheless requires some practice. I'm proud of being able code shit up in MATLAB and Python. I had to sit in front of a console typing commands and syntax until I figured out how to solve differenti...

I took another bike ride into the mountains.  I don't have a car, so I couldn't drive to the canyon and then get on my bike to hit trail (like a pussy). So instead I took off on my bike from my apartment, rode uphill for a while to get to the canyon,  and then I started riding uphill into the canyon itself.  I literally rode uphill for three hours.  Then I tumbled back downhill all the way home at speeds fast enough to water my eyes. I even heard wind wooshing through my ears.  So I kept pedaling.  I got home and ate a gigantic bowl of chicken and rice  that I cooked. I'm awesome.

Never have I seen the moon so dim Her face so pale and noble Shining for all the oceans to admire But no more. The mighty hand of space opens up like the wings of a raven casting shadows across the sea,mountain, and valleys But as the cold blanket of darkspace descends upon my moon and paints her worshipers a darker shade of color one by one, the stars emerge As if to arrive from distant shores Galactic travelers equipped with torches set to light our way. Now they sit still Awaiting our departure. Worshipers, Arise! The light of the moon is fleeting. Like birds you must fly Towards the tides of space. So that all the oceans we contain, may come to life.

Cuando escuho esa cancion, Mi corazon se llena de pasion. Siento mi alma brotar con deseo Extendiendose a las estrellas. Via galactica! Guiame a los campos de flores Que yo tanto anhelo! Entregame a los brazos De la luna que yo Tanto amaba! Que me acaricie con la luz de sus ojos. Y con un suspiro apasionado, Me establece en una flotilla En las orillas del mar. Dejame so˜nar entre las olas mas suaves. Quiero despertar En un bosqe verduroso Llenos de pajaros cantores. ...Campos de flores... Mi querida en mis brazos Decorada con petalos de rosa. Jamas te deseare. Jamas te extranare.

There are one thousand birds in the sky Each and ever single one of them is going to die Some will die in the solitude of their nest, At home witht their eyes closed, the final rest Some will die at the gun’s savage roar, A violent sound, final descent, what bloody horror. Some will meet their end within the jaws of a predator A crunching of the bone, gnawing of the heart, ripping of flesh, ultra gore But so long as they fly high, So long as there are clouds in the sky, So long as there is wind in their wings, Vibrations in the air, the sea, and in all things, They are free to live As long as they can Among leaves in the trees The cascading waters and the dancing daffodils.

Theres a fire that burns inside a house made of bricks that groan and sigh as they lay atop one another. The windows reflect images of utter discontent much like mirrors during a funeral procession. The doors of every room moan as they swing to let you see whats inside; only crumpled writings, faded photos, broken toys and a dead cat. The paintings that once decorated these rooms fell broken to the floor. Layers of paint peeling off the canvas like Flowers once adorned the window sill. Now their petals lay dried and shriveled up on the filthy carpet In the kitchen the sink is filled with dirty dishes And on the table sits a steak that rotted long ago, filling the room with a pungent stench. Of death, perhaps. Theres an old man beside the fire Whom no one would bother He sits in his wooden chair Rocking back and forth. Watching, waiting. For his days are numbered. Where did it all go? The clock sprouted feet and marched out the front door. Not even bother...

     An old lady at the bar asks me, Are you okay? You seem rather quiet. Rough day at work?      I’m just waiting for the bus Then it made me wonder. Do I really look like a guy that’s just constantly down on his luck? Do I really give off that aura of misery? Do I appear uninterested and long to be somewhere else? Maybe I do want to be somewhere else. Perhaps atop the snow covered mountains of Alaska Or down winding paths in the forests of Transylvania Tucked away in the jungles of Guatemala Even get lost in the scorching deserts of Australia Perhaps I will travel to the moon And watch the Earth rise from Apollo’s landing Journey to the stars and skate across the rings of Saturn I want to go sailing across oceans in search of... Something Anything that will remove this boulder off my back My soul grows weary with the weight of existence Time has penetrated deep and left lacerations whose pain can only be ignored with aimless w...

I hate snow. I absolutely despise it. It's difficult to walk in. And when it covers the sidewalks, It's also slippery to walk in. A downpour of snow makes it difficult to see, and when the downpour stops, When the sun begins to shine, It's fucking bright white and it hurts my eyes! Today, this guy on a wheelchair, Was struggling to make his way through a foot of snow. I push him all the way to his car. "This is ridiculous!" He said. I agree.

The student I tutor the most. The one that relies on my teaching. The one I have taken under my wing. The one I have freely distributed knowledge of simple Calculus basics. The one that frequently seeks me for help when she doesn’t understand something, or when she is struggling with certain problem or concept. She got A’s on the last couple exams. I guess that means I must be doing something right.

Sometimes, you just gotta ask: why? Why? Oh, universe, why? Reveal unto me thine secrets among patterns in the ivy. Let the moon illuminate thy mysteries upon reflections in the water. Let shadows be destroyed by the awakening of the morning sun. Let falcons soar across the horizon and tear through the silence in the sky. For if it is true That desire breeds suffering, Let the falcon snatch my heart and carry it away towards the horizon. My soul is an open lake resting in a misty valley on an autumn night. Let the moon illuminate the darkened waters So that when the sun awakens, reflections in the water resemble patterns in the ivy. And in one strange moment during twilight hours, Moon and star, Sun and fowl, Water and flower, all come together intimately linked So that all desire vanishes for one brief eternity.

To the farthest land we must travel Pack up all thy provisions Saddle up thine horse Carry your blade of sacred steel. We journey towards the horizon Beyond the hills in the distant Across overwhelming empty fields Miles and miles of dead trees Stepping over bones buried Beneath snow and ice. We travel across vast plains Through the forests and the trees We travel towards misty shores Over fields of grass and flower Above mighty mountains, the open steppe And through hidden valleys Shrouded in fog. We drift on aimlessly Like pollen in the wind Like icebergs in the sea Like asteroids in the vast emptiness Before being sucked into oblivion. We strive to reach the sunset We strive to reach the stars We strive to caress the moon And bathe in neptune’s ocean For indeed, this land is very far. Will this land appear before me Like visions in my dreams? Will there be endless fields of wheat and barley? Will all the orchards stretch outwards With trees of eve...