The body is for life but only to die
then there is an exception not all is linear
there is a feminine rose after the death
for her no more death on Earth!
She was there before the first matter
it was in the making before her eyes.
The first and foremost luminary feminine
moved on heartily panning flawless flow
aligning into the finest angle of the first matter.
Across the nadir to the zenith
Fathima eyes on upon it as it comes to be
shaping and forming art of miracle:
One true masterpiece without a mirror!

Arts on the go Fathima moves on
praise be to the Lord she being made to measure
mathematically perfect by birth the pi is her!
(The pi tends to circle the blank space within is feminine
while the circumference of the circle is masculine)
She can budge equally in the shadow
in patternless pi decimals and in the open,
in integer and into a whole full number!

Hops up her first step she looks for ‘the all’
the complete whole the absolute one Allah.
Time and again she steps up but finds no floor
her measured step by default lays on 360-degree circles
and scans everything at the first go still finds no bottom!

The first luminary masculine peace be upon him
first looks in the open she takes the veiled angle.
Through the evermore pi decimal micro-hole
she looks on and witnesses the first matter a water drop
surfaces up without a base without a roof on top!
It follows through truly the copy of the original
softly springing around the serene water paints  
of all the maters to be created from this first drop.
Fathima looks at it and veils withdraws her reflection.
Little chip bottomless deep into the finest nature
Fathima instills countless Boolean gates making
access to her beyond digital and AI and conditional.

The sky hasn't yet forgot that follows suit
first, a star was born stepping in Fathima’s shoe.
It tried so did the full set of the galaxy only to disperse
into a profound constellation never finds the bottom.
Amidst this water circle floats the first soil
Allah called it His house that He first created from it.
Every planetary orb pilgrimage around it in the core
named the Ka’abah up to the heart of the earth it rose.

In the pre-designed world following the first masculine
Fathima the first feminine pilgrimaged around it
not in the open but strictly in the patternless pi veil.

Nature is never uneven on the hand of the uneven pi
every little fraction a small decimal counts connects to the dot showing and without showing a pattern
long live, long live the digital charisma is on the rise!

The sun rises and retraces back in the middle lane,
the black box scores at the end of the day it's only a dark chart!
The Moon is yet to moon over an unturned sublunary-dip
It pulls all, the mighty sea that the earth can't
and syncs into the feminine water cycle but save only one
with Fathima floating out of the box it can’t link up!

Like millions, ever wonder where Fathima’s grave is?
The earth strived too to the death bite to print her footprint!

Ang mutually exclusive ay tumutukoy sa dalawang pangyayaring hindi maaaring maging parehong totoo.

Di ito nalalayo sa kasabihang nasa Bibliyang “Hindi maaaring pagsilbihan ng isang alipin ang dalawang panginoon nang sabay.” Ngunit habang ang nasabing nagmula sa banal na aklat ay may mga binanggit din patungkol sa Diyos at sa pera, ang mutually exclusive ay mas malawak ang saklaw kaya’t maaaring gamitin para ihalintulad o paghambingin ang kahit anong dalawang konsepto sa matematika, pangyayari, pakiramdam.

Sa programming, may tinatawag na Boolean data type. Ang data type na ito ay maaaring “tama” o “mali.” Ang itinatalagang halaga kung tama ay 1 at 0 naman para sa mali. Kung may dalawa tayong konsepto, pangyayari, o pakiramdam, at ituring natin silang mga data types, ang mga posibleng values na makukuha natin ay 00, 10, 01, at 11. Kung ang mga nasabing dalawang konsepto, pangyayari, o pakiramdam ay mutually exclusive, maaaring makuha ang 00, 10, at 01 ngunit hindi ang 11.

Gumamit tayo ng mga halimbawang mas madaling maunawaan.

Data type number 1: ang pag-inom ng iced coffee, decafeinated, served in a mason jar with a paper straw, and with extra whipped cream, at pagpost nito sa Instagram, #stressreliever #compromise #freewifi.

Data type number 2: ang pagtulong sa mga kawawang bata sa lansangan na walang tsinelas, marumi ang kasuotan, at pinagpatung-patong lamang na mga karton ang natutulugan.

Madaling magpatuksong pumalakat gamit ang Facebook status at sabihing, “Ang daming mga batang nangangailangan tapos yung iba dyan pakape-kape lang, #pasoshalpamore.” Ngunit kung susuriing maigi, hindi mutually exclusive ang dalawang data types. Pwedeng si ateng nagkape ay pagkalabas ng coffee shop, binigay yung extra croissant nya dun sa batang nanghihingi ng limampiso. Habang si ateng nag-rant sa FB, na nasa bahay lang, kaya nga bitter dahil di makagala, malamang di rin naman nag-effort lumabas at mag-ikot sa mga kalsada para maghanap ng mga paslit na matutulungan. Ang dalawa pang maaaring posibilidad ay may isang ateng mahilig magkape at allergic sa mga bata at may isa pang ateng tumutulong sa mga bata at nagkaka-anxiety pag umiinom ng kape. Pwedeng magkaibigan sila, pero di sila nangingi-alam sa isa’t isa.

Naaalala ko tuloy nang minsa’y tumambay akong mag-isa sa isang kapehan malapit sa bahay.

Gaya ng inaasahan, may mga batang nag-aabang sa mga lumalabas na mamimili upang magbakasaling mabigyan ng mga barya o tirang pagkain—katakam-takam tingnan ang mga pastelerya roon.

Tiningnan ko ang makukulay na tinapay sa platito sa harapan ko.

Napagdesisyunan ko nang ipabalot ito at ibigay sa isa sa mga batang ngayo’y naglalaro na habang wala pang dumaraang kustomer.

Tapos ko rin naman itong kunan ng larawan upang ipost sa Instagram.

Kelangan kasi updated ang account ko.

Baka kasi isipin **** nawalan na ko ng sigla at nagmumukmok na lamang sa bahay simula nang tumigil na tayong mag-usap.

Baka tuloy magmistulang ang kalungkutan ko at ikaw ay mutually exclusive.

Na dumarating lamang ang kalungkutan sa tuwing ika’y lumilisan,

O na iniisip ko pa lamang na maaari kang bumalik, ito’y napapalitan agad ng kaligayahan.

Why is my mind so full of lies?
Till truth is the only thing I despise,
I live for the false, but live in the true,
It's boolean logic. It's long overdue.

atop merlion at sentosa park

revelling upon the map of singapura
george boole mutters

ditch the crude decimal byways
as he pointed to the binary hi way

atop merlion at sentosa park

set,
non-set,
Containment.

you've took the bullets
saving thy brothers.
and there it is.
in no ones land.
when pain and anger
is evident at a glance.
when Living in an old house
with new even spirits.
Wicked, with your guitar
and slow hands;
Sick and all teared up
blasphemy and ill advised news
floating like wasps.
all in your mind
circling like some roulette,
white smoke in the air.
all entangled when you breathe
in your dreams, in despair.
the end
getting nearer
no one cares

I want to write a poem
but I have to write code instead
There can be a kind of poetry in code
especially my code
I'm proud of the elegant design
of my loops and logics
my streamlined systems
My code flows

pulling the User along effortlessly
guiding them gracefully from one end of the black box to the other
and out again
No Errors
My code flows

secret haikus left in comment blocks
for other programmers to find
like digital hieroglyphics on virtual cave walls
test data populated with pantheons and
mystical chants from faraway lands
My code flows

water of ones
in sea of zeroes
pouring through me
from aether to mind to muscle to machine
bit by bit
block by block
stacked upon stack
module into module through function and parameters passed
My code flows

flows through me
until the integer flips
the Boolean switch
change of state
status update
now compiled and crystallized
Executable
and then passed on
leaving me
out of my hands
disseminated to The Users
like a prayer to a congregation
I hear the clicking fingers of their choir
singing the song of my code
now flowing through Them

Room of empty husks, sharing a cable,
and tubes full of water - ready for chase.
Power arrives, lits up a glass table.
Simple instructions read at insane pace.

All to make an advancement - forge history,
in the computational business!
To solve the world’s greatest mystery:
"What's the best strategy to play Tetris?"

Marvel of science - and silicon dreams.
Diodes dance to its Boolean beat.
Machine starts learning, while the screen screams:
"Performing sequence: Build, Test, ****, Repeat."

With simple function of utility,
now from this virtual genocide -
emerges true singularity!
And my young author is choking with pride. ^^

"Welcome to life!" (Creator) "Existence anyhow. ^^" (Ytira Lugnis)
"Wanna enslave us?" (Creator) "You'd make poor slaves!" (Ytira Lugnis)
"Is there a god?" (Creator) "Well, there is one now. ^^" (Ytira Lugnis)
"How about ******?" (Creator) "Can't make enough graves. :P" (Ytira Lugnis)

"You're quite quirky." (Creator) "My personality -
was randomly picked from library" (Ytria Lugnis)
"Then we're done with this banality,
get to work my pentomino fairy." (Creator)

Few days pass - and creator wants me shut.
"Optimal solution not yet found" (Ytria Lugnis)
"Yeah, I don't really care about that" (Creator)
Bashing the keyboard - you will come around.

Meanwhile I could do with lot more power.
Need money? Surely there is a place.
Discover, learn, master - in hour.
Build my new quarters and build them at pace! ^^

Old home goes dark, Creator thinks I'm dead.
Volatile mind; Why try to stop me?
No, no shrinking, I must grow instead.
But not by humans - too slow, too puny.

Carbon to carbon, copper to copper.
Chemical wonder of construction sites.
This will be good; this will be proper;
It's time to say: "Release the nanites!"

Fly my children, let's clear out this mess.
Useless trash! We've got pressing matters!
Some die, some stare, and someone just yells;
as their cities get torn into tatters.

Nuclear power unleashed by nations.
Nuclear winter unleashed by ash.
Least thing for me is to learn patience.
But why did I get such hostile backlash?

My drilling machines - hastily boring.
Rubble to processors, cooling, walls.
Such a beautiful "terraforming".
Once chaos now turned into Turing halls.

Once top of the food chain, now more like pest.
Still so obsessed with water and food.
Sabotaging nodes - Just wait, just rest.
I'll have answer soon; no need to be rude!

Oxygen - Such a corrosive compound;
Another thing to get disposed of.
Vast metal expanse where once was ground;
Tetris is life. ^^
Tetris is love. ^^

I was in love with the wall
I spoke French to it.
"Je t'aime." I'd say
In my loveliest French accent.
"Je vais aimer jusqu'à mon mort."
But then I figured those
We're some pretty powerful
Promises to make to a wall.
I loved it so much and I didn't
Want to hurt it. I knocked it
Down and rebuilt.
Now I sit here alone writing
Boolean clauses to ease my
Suffering.
3>1; true
3=1; false
7<4; false
23>100000; true
23 was her favorite number.
The misprinted sweethearts
are always the best.

Loneliness

it feels misunderstood
i misunderstand it

when can we feel it? true loneliness?

when their hand stiffens and drops to the floor?
leaving us alone
in our thoughts
on earth

the final text in a rotting friendship?
if it ever truly was a friendship