Boccherini & Moby Dick in Elephant Architecture

While I adore being back in school, I am missing the great literature portion of my life. I am longing to continue reading my lists, or reread some of my honourable mentions along the way. My school literature is taking precedence in the forefront of my mind.
Upon the news that my father is finally moving back to Kentucky, a tide of wellness, and music began flowing through me again. I have begun playing guitar & piano again intermittently during breaks between studying my Anatomy & Physiology homework. It is like unblocking pathways that were broken, and redirected into the fashion he saw fit. I am so relieved that he will be states away. These last few years I have seriously been considering abandoning the life I have created for myself. I have been very seriously considering changing my name, giving up everything, and joining a commune like many Yogis do. It has, in many ways, been an excruciatingly painful last few years since he moved back into my nearer network. It has been the portion of Wang Lung’s life in The Good Earth when the army, and his unwanted relatives occupy his home.
I have a new project at work since my last protege finally found his way to a Group Home. Jesus was an artist who I would draw with occasionally, and talk through his predicament. Now, I have Patient W_. W_ has a B.A. in Math from a Jesuit college down south who I talk through his journey there. Call me Virgil. This morning he asked me to use a scientific calculator and read me out this equation:

(2 x 60 x 15) + (2 x 60 x 5) divided by (2 x the square root of 7,200)

He had worked 13 out on paper, but the answer was 14.14213562

I said he did pretty well without a calculator. I told him that if it were a dartboard he would have hit the black ring around the bullseye.

I ask him to teach me some high level calculus to keep his mind active, and give him a sense of purpose. I am strong in geometry, and trigonometry, however, the more theoretical equations never held my attention too long. I complained that math teachers always seemed to jump to conclusions for these equations that always bothered me. He agreed. But, it’s nice to have a stroll down memory lane with my old math textbooks I put away many years ago.
This is the music that has been playing in my soul since the news of my father’s departure. Call me Alex. The Clockwork is Orange.