There would inevitably be one day in which I start anew in what is called ‘proper writing’.

As cool as a hexadigital decimal number can be, in this post, 101535 is simply the property tag number of the computer that, last year, stayed idle on the hot desk in my mum’s departmental office. Spending almost all weekends there, I used to use it a lot, only soon to be faced with complaints about me filling this computer with sinister-looking dev tools (even a Chameleon bootloader leading to a working copy of OS X Mavericks) and heaps of indecipherable Chinese characters.

Today I am back in front of it – mum’s department have moved, of course, and the machine was for quite a while unplugged and unused – all that happened before I dug it up from the pile of antiquated and wired electronics, and then secretly docked it onto a display and a mouse and a keyboard.

It was during this period in 2015 that we were most close – that I am the most closely bound to it – a lot of the files found on this computer date back to November and December of that year. Look into Windows 7’s download history. Relativity_1.pdf, AucklandUni_campus_map.pdf. Oh, right, I’ve used it last semester as well, for once on Feb 29th. I’ve seen a baby blackbird, dying or dead that night.

Those are evidence on how infrequently I used this computer ever after, and how well the data on it might be preserved. Anyways, what can they be reminiscent of? What is my tale with UNL101535 or anything (or anyone)? Why am I here to bother? Why do I feel uncomfortable to say that?

Conversely, I am in front of it with a lot of changes in myself. Having purchased(howdy!) the first genuine Apple computer and used it as my daily driver for months, as well as having 2300-ed the very last classic English literacy exam I was inextricably worried about, both made me quite the individual myself would seem to hope to be back in 2015.

Still, what was my tale? It was not a joke that I had 44 exams starting from September of 2015 to January 30th of 2016, after which I finally declared “Happy new year” to my family with joy (that is soon to be extinguished by a multitude of rejection letters. Anyways, thanks so much for leaving me this unexpected new path to physics, Stuart  – if you are reading this.) I have a summer chemistry project to do…

Why do I feel uncomfortable to say that? I am not me anymore, chemically, biologically or otherwise – in the sense that I am enrolling in PHIL papers duh. However, 101535 has kept a good record of that me, the less disappointing/ed me. Suddenly, I don’t want to write about my past tales, the one filled with devotions of others, true excellence and humility, latent uniqueness, million-metre friendship and so on; one that should be as sincerely recalled as any of yours.

Ask and I shall tell you, if there is any better way to do that than to present an excerpt of my CV, I would have done that. On the other hand, how detailed my personal memories are – a fact always overlooked by you – can be quite astonishing if you do the math. There would inevitably be one day in which I start anew in what is called ‘proper writing’. If I don’t write down and thereby realise some of my dreams, I have no reason to stay alive.

To one of you, like all of you that I had no plans before the actual encounter, almost as frequently as “Stop!” is me saying to myself, “Forget it.”

“Just try to forget it.”

“Don’t. Find something else interesting to do.”

Sunset. My sun is no longer visible through the window – over that hill I once witnessed double rainbow. (It was an actual double window, over the sky of Mt Albert sometime last March. Not only the setting sun but also the sun’s reflection contributed to the dispersion pattern.


I usually name my personal devices after stars (the names in Western culture, if you’re dubious). First iPod, Sirius; only iPhone, Algol; First Hackintosh, Toliman; and so on. I don’t have a name for this computer – even if I had a name, the IT guys wouldn’t let me add it  – and I would rather call it via this string of numbers, one that is hopefully invariable across the meandering flow of time. The passage of time. The what-we-don’t-know-what-it-does.


Why should I feel uncomfortable to say that?

The HP computer does not even have a GPU – its Intel Sandy Bridge HD2500 integrated graphics was once so painful to get supported by any form of UNIX. But it was not its fault, of course. Naturally, I am stigmatising myself in the attempt to Hackintosh (and to run Vegas Pro 12 on, and to run 3DS Max on) an innocuous office PC.

I am usually the wrong peer in a binary disappointment like this. It is cheering. I shouldn’t feel uncomfortable with anything. I must change accordingly to the discomforts. One of the SCISCHOL geniuses told me how to keep oneself comfortably uncomfortable, and that was interesting.

Time goes on, and so are the stories, lifelines.

World lines.

We will meet again.

All the best, 101535, and the world you are verbatim keeping a record of.

May all of us end up at the best possible places. Here is an atheist praying.

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