“to me,” she said, “it is like peeling an onion.”

when it comes down to just me and the chain rule, i always rush brashly through it. perhaps because it’s such a small and simple procedure, i have the (arrogant) presumption that my second nature will take care of it without any extra thought expenditure required from me. but as it turns out, i always, always forget to differentiate the last variable. most of the time, i don’t even realize it’s there. and so, despite having unraveled a nice tumbling solution that feels like it’s right for the problem, little do i know that the answer i will eventually arrive at is wrong. all because i rushed through the chain rule and forgot to differentiate the last variable.

it’s always the little things. no matter how huge the gust of wind, it’s always about the grain of sand in the eye. pebble in the shoe. eggshell in the cake mix. “haha”. apostrophes. forgetting to press the On button on the alarm clock. it feels counter intuitive that such little things provide the swift kick in the gut, the offset of the entire delicate balance of forces. delicate… that’s what the chain rule is. and like all such precarious things in life, i stumble carelessly through it, quite ignorant of the fact that this is the one move that is going to define the rest of the micro-world it exists in.

but luckily for me, that micro-world eventually ends somewhere. i can then move on to the next problem, and the chances are, i wont be needing the chain rule for that one. behold! a new lease on life!

i’m supposed to be studying for my finals, but i wanna share a poem with you guys. to anyone who speaks / is studying italian but dont recognize some of the words, don’t worry, i couldn’t either. i think it’s dante’s dialect. but if anyone can translate the usual context of the word ‘potestate’ in the 3rd line, i would be most grateful. i know it means strength, but it’s such a strange word to use. well, blind spots notwithstanding, it’s still a beautiful piece:

Tutti li miei penser parlan d’Amore;
E hanno in lor sì gran varietate,
Ch’altro mi fa voler sua potestate,
Altro folle ragiona il suo valore,

Altro sperando m’apporta dolzore,
Altro pianger mi fa spesse fiate;
E sol s’accordano in cherer pietate,
Tremando di paura che è nel core.

Ond’io non so da qual matera prenda;
E vorrei dire, e non so ch’io mi dica:
Così mi trovo in amorosa erranza.

E se con tutti voi’ fare accordanza,
Convenemi chiamar la mia nemica,
Madonna la Pietà, che mi difenda.

- Dante Alighieri, La Vita Nuova.

edit: ahh i found a nice translation to the above poem online. it’s perfect:

All of my thoughts can only speak of Love,
greatly endowed with such variety
that one compels me all his might to see,
madly another does his valor prove,

another makes me hope as well as grieve,
and still another brings but tears to me:
on begging but for pity they agree,
such are the fears that in my heart still live.

Thus, with no subject wherefrom to commence,
I wish to speak, and know not what to say,
in such a lovely labyrinth am I!

And if for peaceful living now I sigh,
invoke I must my only foe today —
my Lady Mercy in my sole defense.

beatrice. there’s just something about that name. say it in italian.. be-a-TRI-cheh. no wonder dante loved her.

guys, i’m having sudden flashbacks of partying in KL. hands up, folks who miss the old 12 SI Atmosphere and think that no other club in KL could possibly match up to it.