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Parody of Paradoxes

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The mind of a twisted scientist

The string theorist

Your hypothesis is nice,
my dear,
but it can’t be validated in any way
for it’s all far too theoretical.

You leave no place
for experiments,
rather you wrap yourself
in analogies and terms of logic.

Please tell me,
is this science
or rather pure
mathematics?

You seek for understanding
by what the world
is held together
in its innermost.

Your hypothesis
is indeed nice,
even elegant, makes sense somehow,
but deep down?

You can’t describe anything exactly,
but maybe
that’s our world;
just a universe of analogies…

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The mathemagician

The mathematician
is indeed a magician
for he plays with numbers
like they were some kind
of juggle balls.

He speaks the language of the universe,
the language of logic;
Speaking in analogies
he combines equations
like the chemist combines toxic elements…

Equations
– they are the words
of logical thought,
are capable to tell stories
about the universe’s very first days.

The mathemagician’s passion
is to find analogies
between analogies,
just like the writer
searches for metaphors…

He searches for understanding the cosmos…
In dialoque with the universe
he begins to wonder and wander
across the ocean of infinite possibilities…

Fervor with measure,
passion with exactness,
that’s the ultimate of mathematics;
Connecting the details
to create the big puzzle…

Holistic thinking
clashes together
with reductionistic thinking…
That’s when the details coalesce
to one big picture.

The mathemagician loves riddles,
is as fascinated like a child discovering something new.
Nothing can stop the mathemagician’s curiosity
from finding out
by what the world is held together in its innermost…

Passion
and fascination;
that’s what drives him
– almost crazy…

The abstract scientist

I remarked
that scientists are observers
of the external world

while artists
are observers
of the iternal world.

I am the one
who’s looking
inside myself

and see the reflection
of how my subconsciousness recognizes
the outside world…

Therefor am I looking at both;
the outside
and the inside.

It’s like I am inside a box staring at the outside
and at the same time
I’m outside the box staring at the inside.

The subconsciousness opens doors
we never thought
could be real.

I see the distorted,
maybe mirrored reality,
but it’s still a version of the real world.

I am the abstract scientist.
– recognizing the view
between mirrors.

Philosophical bluntness

My dear,
you think about things
that can’t be put into words.

You wish to be a poet,
but your heart is too frozen
for your poems are far too intellectual.

Your words
are as blunt
as stone.

But your intentions
have the sharpness
of a razor’s edge.

With logic
you kill
every glimpse of emotion.

Stuck in your cold world of logical sequences
your words fail to form
precious sentences.

Your poems leave no place for emotions,
your philosophical bluntness
is destroying every kind of beautiful touch.

But do your readers know
that logic itself
offers a kind of high inner beauty?

Is logic really as blunt as imagined?
Or is it just a highly abstract beauty
only a few can grasp?

A beautiful mind

From the outside
you may say
that this mind
is beautiful.

But my dear,
don’t dare to posses this mind
for it’s a universe,
a world full of
explosions,
collapses
and
crazy reactions
no human can ever seem to handle…

My dear,
believe me,
it’s not easy to have the mindset
of a “lunatic”.

I’m not insane at all,
my dear,
it’s just
I live in another reality.

You may look into my tired eyes
and yet
you are able to gaze at
my very own universe…

My dear,
do you recognize the stars
and galaxies
behind my eyes?

They are products
of infinite struggle,
unbearable pressure
and pain…

They lighten my
way,
but they are wisps
as well;

Introspection closes the loop;
I’m a black hole
and yet
an entire universe…

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