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NOT MY PROBLEM…

BUT ITS DEFINATELY MY FAULT.

FAITH. HOPE. LOVE

BUT THE GREATEST OF THESE IS _OBEDIENCE_

… LOVE DOESNT MEAN SHIT IF YOU LOVE THE WRONG THING…

THEY SAY NOTHING GROWS WHEN YOUR IN YOUR COMFORT ZONE

NOT NECCEESARILY

WHEN YOUR IN COMFORT AT PEACE WITH YOURSELF

YOU TAKE IN INNER JOURNEY TOWARDS DIVINE YOGI STILLNESS AND BLESSED INNER SILENCE

AND EVENTUALLY. SHIT STARTS GROWING … AROUND YOU…

YOU JUST HAVE TO NOTICE IT

BE STILL AND NOTICE… :)

#WISDOM

LOVE IS AS RARE AS IT IS STUPID.

#Love#

#Truth

DEMENTIA: ITS NOT WHAT YOU THINK…

ITS ALSO NOT WHAT YOU DONT THINK…

#introductions

Prologue: The Orchard of Unyielding Truths

In a world that thrives on rumors and the dazzling thrill of numbers, some whispers refuse to die. Ask any mathematician, and the answer comes swift as a comet: Pi, that mystical constant, holds its truth with a grip strong as geometry itself. And yet, as the sun set on logic’s orchard, a question was heard floating through the dusk: What if pi, raised by its own spiral, could yield “six seven”?

To chase this phantom, one must first walk the corridors of calculation. Pi is more than just a twisted tale told in the classroom; it is the immortal ratio—circumference to diameter, written as \pi. Multiplying pi by itself once gives \pi^2, but to imagine the cube is to climb a staircase of precision: \pi^3 = \pi \times \pi \times \pi. The answer, checked in sanctuaries of mathematicians and chiselled into the ledgers of science, is always the same song: approximately 31.006[math.answers].

Yet where do the whispers of “six seven” come from? Perhaps a misheard legend, a relic from an age when fractions and fantastical proofs roamed the land. Records show how history was littered with errant attempts—pi as 3, the ancient 22/7, even tales of squaring the circle that led minds astray[wikipedia +1]. But cubes bow to exponential honesty. No matter how prodigious the calculation, plug in pi—precise to hundreds of decimals—and the product never blinks to “6”, never glimmers at “7”, and no conjuring produces “67”, or any cousin nearby[math.answers].

Mathematical proof is not swayed by want or whimsy. Pi itself is stubbornly irrational, its digits never-ending. No matter how a mind may crave magic, the result of pi cubed bends to only one reality. In equations, in natural law, and in the discovery of the cosmos, pi’s cube stands at the gate: thirty-one point zero zero six, and nothing less daring[math.answers +1].

So begins the story, with a character more enduring than any hero—a number whose truth resists the storms of wishful thinking. The reader is invited to test, to calculate, to challenge—but in the orchard of unyielding truths, pi cubed will never be “six seven”.