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Sticky Notes

I notice things and write them down.

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The Bunsen burner roared its blue flame. The teacher held a ribbon of magnesium in the tongs and touched it to the heat. White light, too bright to look at. Then nothing. A curl of ash that had been metal a second ago and would never be metal again. "That's a waste," I said. The teacher waved it off. He was in his white coat, looking at the classroom. "Energy cannot be wasted," he corrected me. "The first law of thermodynamics. It cannot be created or destroyed. It only changes state." He was...

He had, quite possibly, the most annoying voice I had ever heard. But it filled the largest lecture hall in Strathclyde University and the classes were always full. Think about that for a second. Students have no compulsion to go to lectures. There's no intake form, no attendance sheet. You get those on workshops, not lectures. Lectures were voluntary. Every person in that room could have been at the pub, three pints deep, reinventing themselves for a stranger across the bar. Instead they got...

I've been tossing and turning on this word all day. You might say something was blocking me. Enough friction to impede the action. The friction of not understanding it yet. I wasn't ready to release my thoughts on friction until I'd built some basis for them. So I let my mind drift. I collected. Friction. I pictured sandpaper against wood. Woodwork class. Pushing a block against the automatic sander, shaping it. I made a spoon my mum used for years. That's when it landed. The friction of the...

Why is it that some people, you can just talk to and others, you are a million miles away from? Is it commonalities? Is it a shared outlook on life? Is it a VIBE? What is it that motivates interest and intrigue of others? You can't force it. Can you? Have you ever tried it? To force it, I mean. Don't you feel like it's a little jarring? Is it me or is it them? No offence, I'd rather be elsewhere. If we look at distance, we have to also look at attraction and repulsion. Let's look at the...

"How many twos do you have?" I said jokingly. This wasn't one of those competitive games of Switch we played on holiday. Today, we were playing on a narrow section of a hospital bed that had just enough space to fit the cards. We had been moved to the 'Observation room' which was another way of saying that the hospital wasn't sure what to do yet. That morning, I had called my dad to check-in with him on his thoughts on an accounting report I had created. I had assumed he would be all fired up...