One-Room Memory Palace

A Memory Palace is a memory tool by which a person mentally assigns items from a list to physical locations of a room or building and recalls the items by mentally walking through and noticing them.

Today I was cleaning my room again
Apparently, I sometimes scribble thoughts onto scraps of paper and leave them for myself to find later, in fear of forgetting forever.

Some are stray thoughts, some just needed recording, some hoped to be elaborated on or clarified later.

I'm putting the thoughts here so I can recycle the paper.

The terrible handwriting is a sign of either urgency of writing, semi-consciousness, or awkward writing position - probably necessitated by the aforementioned sense of recording urgency.



Being given free will and limited knowledge and interdependability, we inevitably make choices that open and close doors for others, however indirectly, we shape the kinds of lives that are available for others, sometimes in ways they don't deserve



While certainly larger, more noticeable events have more influence in the general historical conscience, to overlook the small, minor injustices in favor of only large events is to treat (prescribe) the disease with tissues



The beauty of life does not depend on how happy you are, but how happy others are because of you
(I should probably revise this. It doesn't seem airtight. But it does feel approximate...)

The next, I did not make,
but it was given to me by a friend and I don't want to lose it.



I do NOT intend to recycle this. It's a little bookmark. When I start reading non-textbooks again, I shall have to use it. I'm recording it here because it is small, easily to misplace, and I never want to lose it.







How are you doing?
I am like the Schrodinger wave equation
____________ until observed
I am a probability cloud



The blue part, I quoted from a friend
Sometimes the things you want & the things God wants coincide, & when that happens, don't wait for it again. Take it and run. hard. And try to make them coincide more.

I'm not sure how, but I sometimes feel suspended in such a mix of infinite joy and infinite sorrow -
and it seems they go together, as I feel both the immense joy and pain of not completely merging with it. I feel the pain of a beautiful waiting. It's like ice cream and coffee.



A guy I worked with at a feed mill for two summers in a row gave me this copy of Chapter XVI of Antiquities of the Jews by Josephus.



He also gave me this stylish eyeball.

It started when he named my calculator 'cyclops'

and for some reason, hidden paper eyeballs started showing up everywhere...


Sometimes I think I'm trying to be the best time capsule possible before I am suddenly and unexpectedly buried.