eh,

eh,

you can stand under my umbrella,

eh,

eh,

eh,

eh,

eh,

under my umbrella,

eh,

eh,

eh,

eh,

eh,

eh

i always wished that you were here

for me to get lost in your deep blue eyes,

and for you to hold my hand

like the world was ending

we would stay by each other

and i would cradle your head in my arms

while you'd smile and kiss me like you always did

your lips would taste like buttercream,

your scent reminiscent of fresh daisies,

and your gentle touch

sending shivers down my spine

as you caressed my cheek with such care

my fingers would get tangled in your fluffy locks of ebony hair

and i'd grin at your awkward response,

then laugh when your flushed face would flop against my chest

i'd hug you one last time then we'd both fall asleep together

and i would be happy

__

i always wished that you were here

for me to get lost in your deep blue eyes,

hopefully hypnotizing you so you would never leave my wrath

and for you to hold my hand

like the world was ending

i'd hold yours so much more tightly

until your skin would bruise

we would stay by each other

and i would cradle your head in my arms

squeezing just a bit too much,

but it would go unnoticed

while you'd smile and kiss me like you always did

even though we both knew you weren't capable

of holding real affection for me

your lips would taste like buttercream

(i'm lactose intolerant),

your scent reminiscent of fresh daisies

(i have a pollen allergy),

and your gentle touch

sending shivers down my spine

in disgust,

as you caressed my cheek with such care

my fingers would get tangled in your fluffy locks of ebony hair,

then yank out every strand from your scalp

and i'd grin at your awkward response,

as you'd yell in pain with tears streaming down your cheeks

then laugh when your flushed face would flop against my chest,

your eyes rolled back into your head, passed out

i'd hug you one last time then we'd both fall asleep together

and i would be happy

his eyes were like soft emeralds that dazzled in the sunlight,

blonde wisps of hair shifting about as he walked

in powerful strides

his lips only uttered the truth,

and his voice would resound as if angels had sung

with untold wisdom lying behind that charming grin of his,

he was perfect

everyone adored him --

they worshipped the very ground he walked on,

begging for just one glance from the handsome stranger

of course,

to which he would give them with the gentle crease of his eyelids

and the parting of his lips to showcase his rows of white teeth

he wasn't crude, either

but held a kind soul within the depths of his chest

that pounded for justice and all things good:

the town's hero

but one day there was thunder,

rain pouring from the clouds above,

an omen of wickedness

through the plumes of mist,

down came a witch

she had green skin,

sickly irises

and a nasty frown

she proclaimed that she wanted to seek their famous "mascot,"

as the town had cursed her eons ago

she wanted revenge:

to remove their beloved hero

so the blonde came,

riding on his white steed,

determined to do what was right

he knew he had to fight for this,

to not risk the town's demise,

for he loved all the people within it

witch!

he exclaimed, a prominent and smug grin on his face,

i have come!

but when the woman turned around,

the hero could not believe his eyes

although her skin looked like the color of a musty bog,

and her eyes were rather deterring,

she was beautiful

before he could comment,

the witch cackled and pointed at finger at the blonde

fool!

she laughed,

you've only come to meet your doom!

i was once the princess of this wretched town,

but they turned me into this ogre-like figure!

it's horrendous,

so you shall pay!

the hero bent down on one knee,

bowing to the witch

she grumbled confusedly and lowered her arm

what are you doing,

she asked, seriously puzzled

i-i'm here to kill you

but the hero only regarded her with a sanguine smile

and lifted his glimmering eyes to meet her gaze

princess,

he declared valiantly,

though this curse has affected you so,

i still believe that your beauty holds no bounds!

your youthful glow still radiates on,

even in such a form

i would be honored to

the witch rolled her eyes before he could speak more

and zapped him with her index finger

so the hero crumbled into a tiny pile of dust

and the sky cleared up within mere seconds

the former witch transformed

into her natural form,

a fair-skinned,

beige-haired princess,

a puffy pink ballgown hugging her body,

and a small diamond tiara on top of her head to finish the look

you really thought i'd leave the curse on just because

you thought i looked good?

she snorted, condescendingly looking down on the pile of ashes

please,

you're delusional

she suddenly sneezed,

scattering the dust in the breeze,

and sniffed,

rubbing her nose

besides,

she continued, adjusting her gown and crown,

i'm a lesbian

the end

i miss you

and the way your eyes looked so longingly into mine

like perfect gems,

they glimmered with the glints of fresh love,

of childish admiration

your irises seemed so dark,

yet they always seemed to pool with adoration

when you gazed into mine

i miss you

and the way you weaved your words into poems,

the clusters of letters that

enraptured my very soul

the small phrases you would utter every now and then,

that sent shivers racing down my spine

i miss you

and your hands,

the fingers that fit so perfectly into mine,

with warm palms and a caring touch,

my missing puzzle piece that completed my life

i was whole,

with you

i was me,

with you

i miss you

and your rosy cheeks that

flushed whenever our lips touched,

tongues dancing with the taste of

honeysuckle-flavored lip balm

when i would cup your face in my hands

you’d smile into the kiss with adoration

and caress my skin with your thumbs,

brushing over the surface like it was made of silk

you’d always bring me gifts

and care for me whenever nobody else did

you’d wipe my tears and let me

sob into your shoulder

then pat my back and whisper sweet nothings in my ear

sometimes i regret losing you

everyday, actually

but i’m happy

to see you stress-free

and living life as it should be lived

we’re still friends

and i know you love me so much

but right now it’s not the best time for either of us

we have separate goals to work towards

i know one day we can be happy together

i know you know the same thing

you’re smart

caring

amazing

everything that my mother would have wanted,

funnily enough

but now is not the time

it’s time to let go of the past

and move towards the future

a future where we can both thrive in

I had gathered every single spare penny I had, every dollar I’d ever made, every drop of currency I owned. Pouring it all out onto the big, flat, oak table I slammed my hands down and whipped my head upwards to look at the man in front of me. My irises pooled with desperation, practically begging for him to give me what I wanted. He had a peculiar smile on his face, like he’d seen this scene play out one too many times before. The golden glow that emanated from his fingertips spoke whispers of magic.

He flicked his pinky up into the air and smiled as a small, golden flower rose from the tip, only to crumble into glittery dust.

"My dear, you have quite the sum of money," he mused, regarding me with a mere flicker of his gaze, "But I'm afriad my answer is still the same as before." I growled as my fingers curled upon the smooth surface. Banging my fists against the wood like a baby throwing a tantrum, I kept shouting at him.

"You said you provide dreams, and I want a good one! All my life my sleep has been plagued with silence, with darkness. All I want is to feel this! Feel anything! I'm willing to give up everything for you, and this is still not enough?" I madly gestured to the piles and piles of bills and coins stacked upon the table. "Is this not enough?"

The Sandman merely shrugged and snapped his fingers, summoning a chair made out of yellow sand to rest himself on. As he yawned and stretched, I only grew more furious at his nonchalant approach to the situation. Steam poured out of my ears as my face flushed in anger.

"It seems like a lot of money to an ordinary person," he finally responded after smacking his lips loudly, "But these papers and scraps of metal mean nothing to me. Dreams are not for sale." I huffed and puffed at an attempt to calm myself down. I couldn't think rationally if all I knew at the moment was animosity.

"Okay," I murmured, voice hushed, "What can I do to finally have my dream?" The man's lips curved upwards in satisfaction, a proud glint in his pitch-black eye.

"My answer is the same as before: you wait until it comes." I sighed, still not completely getting the memo. Why should I have to wait? I at least had to experience this before everything ended. He must have read my mind, as another reply came immediately after my reaction, but in the form of a question.

"Darling, do you know what the most precious thing in the world is to me?" I grumbled, racking my mind over and over again, not finding one other good answer besides "money."

"I don't know, your lover or something?" I mumbled, shoving my hands in my pockets. The Sandman laughed joyously, clearly amused by my response. With another little chuckle, he sank back into his chair comfortably, producing a small cup. Filling it with a clear liquid, he took a sip, puckered his lips and made the glass disappear with a swipe of his hand.

"I wish, but that's not the case," he said, a slight lilt to his voice, "You're quite the funny one." I grumbled again, not expecting his kindness, but remained silent.

"The answer is time. The most precious thing in the world to me is time." I cocked my head and raised an eyebrow. The statement seemed a little plain to me. Why would he want time? He's immortal, after all. It's insignificant.

"You see," The Sandman sighed, waving his hand carelessly in the air, "Humans have such interesting lives. Yet, the number of years they live can easily be counted by a toddler. It's so short, and a rather dreary thought, but I find strength in knowing that I've been given the responsibility to let them down peacefully in the form of a dream.

"A dream only lasts for a few seconds until it ends. A few seconds of nirvana, I can give to them before they drift off into the afterlife. It's a sense of finally being whole, of being content with the lives they've lived and the experiences they've made. No matter who they were, what they might've done, I can weave their best moments into an amalgamation of happiness. It's what they deserve." The Sandman's tone suddenly turned darker, a grimace beginning to surface on his young features.

"But to those who grow impatient, who don't recognize the true beauty of time, of living and being grateful for every single day they have aren't worthy of experiencing a dream. The world is hard. The world is hard on everyone, it's just the basics. You need to get your head out of the clouds and reflect. We all suffer. We all endure hardships every single day, and whenever it gets unbearable, we feel like it's not worth it to live anymore.

"We throw out the concept of appreciation, of thankfulness and succumb to the tricks that eternal silence gives us. I've seen many people pour their money out on this very table, just as you did, screaming and pleading for me to bestow upon them just one dream so they could float away happily. But every single time I decline.

"Some choose to end their lives miserably, prematurely, without a dream after our meeting. It pains me to see the sight when I saw so much potential in their futures. It feels like there are knives stabbing into my heart, blaming me as the cause of their demise. I still live with it even today.

"But some survive. Some do. They come to me right at the end with tears in their eyes and thank me for proving to them that their time was not useless. Those individuals open my eyes to the world just a bit more.

"And even though I'm stuck giving just a puny amount of seconds to those who are going to pass on, I smile in relief at the feeling of how I'm able to give them a reason to live, even though it's mostly for their self-interest. These dreams that people crave so damn much are what spurs them to run all the way to the end. But what I find ironic is that somewhere along the line, they'll find something worth more than that dream. Something else to keep living for."

The Sandman ended the narrative with a wistful gaze at the room's ceiling, his full black eyes twinkling with the beginnings of tears. He sniffed once and laughed at himself, wiping away the mist with the back of his hand. A few golden sparkles rained down from the contact.

"Now then, I hope I've convinced you enough, darling. Take your money, for I have no need for it. Live happily. Spend your time here wisely. Then, will you truly earn your dream."

Quantum mechanics (QM; also known as quantum physics, quantum theory, the wave mechanical model, or matrix mechanics), including quantum field theory, is a fundamental theory in physics describing the properties of nature on an atomic scale. Classical physics, the description of physics that existed before the formulation of the theory of relativity and of quantum mechanics, describes many aspects of nature at ordinary (macroscopic) scale. Quantum mechanics explains the aspects of nature at ordinary (macroscopic) scales but extends this description to the small (atomic and subatomic) scales. Most theories in classical physics can be derived from quantum mechanics as an approximation valid at large (macroscopic) scale. Quantum mechanics differs from classical physics in that energy, momentum, angular momentum, and other quantities of a bound system are restricted to discrete values (quantization), objects have characteristics of both particles and waves (wave-particle duality), and there are limits to how accurately the value of a physical quantity can be predicted prior to its measurement, given a complete set of initial conditions (the uncertainty principle). Quantum mechanics arose gradually, from theories to explain observations which could not be reconciled with classical physics, such as Max Planck's solution in 1900 to the black-body radiation problem, and the correspondence between energy and frequency in Albert Einstein's 1905 paper which explained the photoelectric effect. Early quantum theory was profoundly re-conceived in the mid-1920s by Erwin Schrödinger, Werner Heisenberg, Max Born and others. The modern theory is formulated in various specially developed mathematical formalisms. In one of them, a mathematical function, the wave function, provides information about the probability amplitude of energy, momentum, and other physical properties of a particle.

are we really over,

you ask with teary eyes,

i can't live without you,

please, i didn't mean to

but my hand is already at the door,

shaking with fury as

i cast my gaze upon your pitiful features

you didn't mean to,

i snap,

wheeling around,

just like you didn't mean to fall in love with me,

just like you didn't mean to ignore me on dates,

or not have time for someone as useless as me,

or not give a damn when you missed the most important night of my life

sure,

you didn't mean to

fat tears cascade down the sides of your face

streaking your rosy cheeks

with the remnants of your guilt

that is,

if you felt any

you trembled and you screamed,

begging like some lonesome dog for me

to not leave

to not go

to stay with you

in your stupid studio apartment

but i couldn't hear it

i couldn't hear it

through the memories

of crying my heart out every night

of wondering why you smelled like perfume every other day

through the memories of

cheap dollar store chocolate boxes

you bought me when i was upset with you,

with your childish mindset

thinking that it was the solution to mend together

the cracks in our relationship

through the tidal wave of emotions

when i finally found your phone,

the wave that broke all my hope

of you ever loving me back

then through the memories

of missing you

of missing us

we need a break,

i say,

trying to bite back a sob,

this isn't good

for either one of us

no,

you yell,

we can make it work

i'll make you happy

i give a small chuckle

at the silly response

we're over

if time had stopped maybe i could change everything

maybe i could catch up on my work i’ve been procrastinating over for the longest time

maybe i could learn to love my mother more

i could walk out in the streets and look at the frozen people, wondering how their days were going to be

i would gaze upon sunlit sky and breathe a sigh of relief

i have time

i have time

i have time

i’ve always wanted this

to be able to move so thoughtlessly with no worries

i would hate everything a little bit less

to wander around the streets of the city,

and perhaps sneak a few extra ice cream samples in

all the while admiring the faces of those who appeared to be having a good time

would be bliss

heaven upon earth

my own pocket of nirvana here on this hopeless world

alone

just with my own thoughts

maybe i could tolerate myself

yes, maybe i could tolerate myself

if time had stopped

When the world is lifted of a plague, we rejoice.

We rejoice at the fact that millions of families are now safe and content. We celebrate the nurses and doctors who risked their lives to provide us with care when we all needed it the most. We commemorate those who have passed away and hold the memories of them deep within our hearts, forever pressed into our minds.

We remember.

As people, we are prone to hold onto things that seem important. Either people or events, I’m sure we can recall at least one that changed our lives -- marriage, graduations, having children, the list goes on and on. Humans can conjure thoughts and opinions on circumstances that have already passed.

They don’t forget.

“This is your fault, your people should’ve never been here in the first place!”

But they also latch onto bad memories.

“Go back to your own country and eat all the dogs you want! God doesn’t want you here!”

They hold onto their fears.

“You can’t even see, so why did you bring the virus in here in the first place?”

Fear turns into violence.

“This all started because Ling Ling just had to eat a bat!”

Those with anger inflict it upon others because they can’t bear to keep it to themselves.

“Rates of xenophobia are at an all time high, even after the outbreak of SARS-CoV-2…”

Why do people choose cruelty over peace?

“Recent reports are flooded with stories of brutality against Chinese-Americans, though many others were expecting that the flames would be quelled after the virus was cured.”

Because it’s entertaining?

“Fights are breaking out on an international scale, seemingly directed towards Chinese and other East-Asian immigrants. Those who are guilty of attacking claim that ‘they don’t belong here.’”

Because it’s all just a joke?

“Chinese people all around the world are fearing for their lives as protests are being staged in countries like America and London to drive them out. Flyers that read: ‘Chinks are NOT welcome’ can be found plastered on the walls of metros and subway stations.”

Or do we just hate each other that much?

“Look, it came from China, so it’s technically their fault.”

If we went away, would they be happier?

“I don’t think it’s a problem, since the Chinese government is always trying to point the blame on someone else, so…”

Or would the world find another problem to cry about the very next day?

“Today, a popular social media star posted a xenophobic comment underneath a pro-Asian relief account, sparking millions of fans to report the page. The charity organization was removed from Twitter an hour later.”

It’s sad to see what we’ve become.

If people don’t want to change, then no matter how much others hope or pray, it just won’t happen. For this much resentment to still linger after such a joyous ending is tragic. There are so many matters we have to focus on that people take refuge in blaming others for the bad ones so they can move on from it.

But as for the victims of all the accusations?

We won’t forget:

The bloodshed.

“Mom, is it even safe to go out anymore?”

The struggle.

“In the recent light of things, I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Tian, but we’re going to have to lay you off. Having so many Chinese employees isn’t a good look for the company.”

The tipped balance.

“So many Asian kids are being pulled out from school, it’s shocking. As a principal, I feel like I have to take initiative, but I don’t know what to do.”

The discrimination.

“China is already overpopulated as it is, and we earned our place here! Why should we give up our rights for others?”

The misinformation.

“It says here in my History textbook that they named it the ‘China Virus,’ Mrs. O’Donnel. I thought it was SARS-CoV-2.”

The horror.

“Daddy just had to... relocate for work. In the meantime, Mommy will take care of you. No, you can’t see him, he’s... too busy! Work, work, work, he’s so busy.”

So what do we see after the dust settles? What do we expect to see? What changes do we want, and how will we make them a reality?

If we predict a perfect world will emerge from chaos, the knife of insanity has already plunged itself deep within our minds.