First of all, thanks all for your kind thoughts.

I saw the Doctor last week. He wasn't much help with the 'flu symptoms; he said they'd sort themselves out over time, and they did disappear for a bit, although I've got them back again now, and will probably have them on and off for the rest of the winter. What he did do was give me four prescriptions such that I'll soon be rattling like a pill box. There's my anti-depressants; some new migraine pills (So expensive he's only given me 6 and told me I'm on no account to lose them); some other pills that I'm to take for three or four days every month; and some ferrous sulphate for an Iron-deficiency, which is not anemia but something similar. Hopefully soon these will take effect, and some progress will be seen with my health.

So far I'm still feeling pretty low, however, and this is certainly not helped by the lack of internet at home. As you can see, I have access to internet at Uni (hence being able to write this), but it's not as convenient, and the worst thing is that as far as I can tell, the problem is elementary: The last time I did a 'Diagnose and Repair', it came up with a message and link telling me to connect ot the ISP. Upon clicking the link, I get a stcok page from BT saying the service has been suspended due to the bill not being paid. Apparently, the man in charge of our property says that this is an error and that of course the bill's been paid, but I have reached the point where I don't altogether believe anything he says; he appears rather useless and looks quite like a stereotypical used car salesman. I am therefore not happy.

Oh well, I suppose that things will sort themselves out. I hope to put another poem up soon to compensate to an extent for this rambling complaint, but until then, thanks again to everyone for their concern, and hopefully I'll see folks soon, and be less moany in person: Only three weeks now until I finish for Christmas.

Today I am very low; I have no internet at home and am suffering from 'flu like symptoms. I have sat half comatose through all my morning lectures and I don't anticipate being any more lively in the next one.

Hopefully my Doctor's appointment will give me some help, if I survive until 4 O'Clock, which feels like an age away.

Untitled (suggestions welcome)

Apologies in advance, there are some slightly ropey bits in this poem, although I hope that overall it get by okay.

The days last long when darkness brings not sleep.
No help from the warm drink or counted ewe.
Even resort to the bottle 'tis true,
Brings no cure. Soon one wishes to sit and weep.
Out of the window on the streets you peep:
Shrouded in slumber are all but the few;
Workers and those who stay wakeful, like you;
Knowing it will come slowly, at a creep.
And yet, we know, as with the rolling tide,
That when the future comes it all will cease
And we with joy unto our beds will fly:
Lifted up on soaring dreams to ride,
From the shackles of waking now released.
And so to the Future look you and I.

Mike, this is dedicated to you, not particularly because the content is anything I think is particularly relevant to you (although I think you know where I'm coming from), but as a thank-you: thanks for quoting me and thanks for your support with this.

It's also for all the people who found the last post a bit too geeky. Not that the people who liked the last post can't appreciate this as well or anything, in fact if you did want to be geeky about it, there are some interesting patterns here.

Beautiful Proof

Okay guys, if you're not a mathematician, bear with me. It's sad I know, but to try and convince myself that I was working earlier, I produced a lovely typed copy of the proof that the square root of two is irrational (cannot be written as a fraction). This is something that I know off by heart and really had no need to type up, but I really think it's rather elegant.If you have any interest in logical thinking/reasoning etc. (even without knowing/caring about maths itself), you will find that this does flow very logically, and is about as beautiful as this area of maths can get, I reckon. Anyway, I hope this will if nothing else give people who know my character an understanding of why I love maths so much, and even possibly get a few people a little bit excited by, or at least less hateful of, mathematics.

Assume: √2 = a/b such that a,b are two integers (whole numbers) which share no common factors.

Therefore: a = √2.b (multiplication by b)

Squaring: a² = 2b²

Because a² is a multiple of 2; a² is an even number.

[Note at this point if x is an odd integer; x² is also an odd integer:

If x is an odd integer, there exists some integer, n, such that x = 2n+1.

Therefore: x² = (2n+1)²

= (2n+1)(2n+1)

= 4n²+4n+1

Taking a factor of 2 from the n components: x² = 2(2n²+2n)+1.

If n is an integer, n² is an integer. Likewise 2n is an integer.

Therefore: 2n² is also an integer.

Therefore: 2n²+2n as a sum of integers is also an integer.

Thus: x² = 2(some integer)+1

which is equivalent to 2n+1, as n is also 'some integer'.

Thus, x² conforms with the initial condition defining odd numbers;

x² is shown also to be an odd number.]

As: a² is even, a must also be even (as an odd number squared is odd; see above).

Therefore: a = 2c (where c is some integer)

Squaring: a² = 4c²

Using (a² = 2b²):

4c² = 2b²

Therefore: 2c² = b² (dividing by 2)

Because b² is a multiple of 2; b² is an even number.

As: b² is even, b must also be even (as odd squares are odd; see above).

Therefore: a and b share at least one common factor, 2, thus contradicting the initial assumption such that a,b share no common factors.

Therefore: √2 cannot be expressed as a ratio of two factors a,b and is irrational.

QED

The Feeling

I wake up with The Feeling, like I could cry,
Only crying doesn't come easily to me.
Hysteria and panic open the flood gates,
But even then only sometimes.

The Feeling makes my head spin,
Drowning in a salty ocean,
With nowhere to go.
So It travels to my stomach.

The nausea wrenches at me,
Telling me I'll faint or puke.
But nothing happens,
Just The Feeling,

Stagnating.

A poem in recognition of National Poetry Day (Thurs 091008), addressing, in a roundabout fashion, my depression in recognition of World Mental Health Day (Fri 101008).

Apologies to any English students/lovers, it's very poorly written. I used free verse primarily because I'm lazy; I've never actually been a huge fan of it as a poetical form.