Heavy is the Head

There are probably a million things about which I could write right now, zillions of thoughts and tangents whizzing and orbiting the ventricles of my brain. The brain truly is the original information highway. There is no higher way.

The mind is truly the original freeway, for what can chain down the mind but the mind itself?

There are probably more than a million things about which I could base this entry, but I can only choose a limited amount of these things. In fact, if you agree with the notion, and I don't necessarily do, that with the sheer amount of cognitive ability and expressive forms of language there is an infinite possibility of things I could be writing at this moment, then in essence, no matter what I write, it amounts of nothing, mathematically speaking.

From a purely mathematical standpoint, if there is an infinite amount of possibilities that could be read right here, right now, then it stands to reason that this particular possibility is a fraction of all the possibilities.

Every letter that is placed, every word, every sentence, paragraph, comma that I decide to type, could be anything else. Therefore, there is (almost) an infinite number of possibilities that could have been here. You could have been reading an infinite amount of other things by now.

Thus, what you have just read, or are reading, is only one possibility of infinity. In mathematics, a finite number over an infinite number is deemed negligible. Thus, mathematically speaking, what I'm writing amounts to nothing.

You have literally just read nothing.

That being said, I'd like to blog about naming my kids.

Now, I cannot vouch for all of humanity, though sometimes I pretend I can, but in my experience, a large percentage of the population has at one point considered names for their future children.

Personally, when I mull over names for my children, the first test I do is what I call the "Tease Test." In essence, if I can come up with a nickname that will make the owner of the name feel bad, I reject it immediately.

For example, let's say I wanted to name my child "Frederick." Nicknames for my kid would include, but certainly aren't limited to, "Fred," "Freddie," "Rick," "Derrick," etc.

The most obvious of these is "Fred." Unfortunately for Fred, if he ever wet his bed, he would not only feel the shame of his lack of bladder control, but such shame would be compounded if kids call him "Wet Bed Fred". Do you see what I mean? I rejected the name "Frederick" a long time ago. You should too.

One of my greatest fears is to name my child something that he or she regrets as he or she grows up. It does break a parent's heart to see their child being teased. Sometimes it hurts more for the parent than the child.

So far, the names I've approved are only for my daughters.

They include:
Kimimela - Sioux for "butterfly"
Aiyana - Sioux for "eternal blossom"
Inaya - Arabic for "solitude, kindness, grace"
Evania - Greek for "tranquil"

Most of these names all leave open the possibility of deriving a Vietnamese name from each of them (KIMimela, AiyANa, EVANia).

I've put some research into this, actually. I don't know why it matters. I probably don't know if I'll even have kids, but for some reason, naming them makes me happy. It's probably because if I give them names, it's akin to giving them faces, personalities and lives. It's like I've already had kids, and maybe it's that comfort of companionship that really makes me warm inside.

I've been doing lots of things alone lately.

I don't know exactly how I feel about this, but those of you who've met me have probably noticed that I tend to be sociable. So being in solitude is definitely a change in scenery for me.

But I think I've grown comfortable with being alone. It's not quite independence, but it's definitely an acceptance and a psychological white flag of sorts. It keeps me in tune with myself. Believe it or not, there are lots of things about yourself that you have yet to learn.

Like sometimes, when you have a final in a few hours, you just find lots of reasons to blog instead of studying.