Bread

Bread

Guys, let's make a sandwich. I'll start:

Bread

oh well. at least there's research into topics no one but me gives a fuck about

sorry what

tell me you’re destined for applied math without telling me you’re destined for applied math.

Actually that’s unfair there’s a couple other things that can feed your level of disillusionment, such as beginning calculus recently and trying to pursue a tangentially related field.

you will not find a more perfect, tar-rich blackness in the ozymandian depths of our extended universe than the blackness festering within my heart for mathematics. there is no subject nearly as devoid of love or compassion, none more thoroughly dedicated to the agony and persecution of innocent minds, none more worthy of scorn, defranchisement, and derision by anyone who is remotely concerned with the maintenance and direction of our educational system and its future. i cannot stress how tantamount the importance of avoiding math is for our collective sanity. its enforced continuation as a requirement in higher education is solely a method by affluent institutions to weed out economic undesirables, and its continued existence is a mere pastiche of the crocodile-tear morals and virtues of a tech industry utterly hellbent on sucking the blood of our children and razing the acres of our labor.

Found on Gender Is A Hilbert Space

Turns out everyone needs hugs for emotional maintenance. It's not just you, it's one of those things that a lot of people need and somehow never talk about. I recommend looking for social dancing organizations near you if it's becoming an obstacle, since touch is kinda requisite to participate in those, and also they're great fun.

Unfortunate side effect of having no friends in my teen years and being emotionally neglected by my parents is now that i am in college and have friends is i need REGULAR CHEST TO CHEST contact with them or i get sad. Like this is so fucked up