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My name is not Julia, but yes, I do like mathematics. 


Those who live aware of copious amounts of uncertainty and incoherence can do one of three things- stupidly attempt to see through the fog by batting at it as one might bat at angry swarm of bees(a vain effort), simply live with the fact, or, tortured incessantly by probability, consciously induce such anguish and write poems about the masochism therein. I have resorted to the last of these. 

[ask me questions, tell me lies]


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