1The tapped-out, camouflaged blackboard begins to pen its own kind of unkindly comprehension as though there was an angel at his chest, whilst he sits a little further afield at being exceedingly still, still working with the comfortably chaotic behavings. Which irregularly reoccur within the substantial size of his might over one juvenile self-taut, -trained mind.
 
2A concentrated masterstroke and the swinging, swaying cosines are simply sizing themselves up yet again, singing for their whole wide worth, graciously attempting to cause sudden influx mysteriously met with absolutely stunning bouts of eagle-eyed awareness.
 
3Ramanujan rests his screaming, scheming laurels then intricately attempts to wrought-iron wrestle with it all till something pin-sized like an invisible diamond in the rough whispers and witnesses itself creep. From nowhere all of that evident anymore – back to the suffering surface and gleefully getting to welcome itself into the mathematical disposition which has undeniably been.
 
4Serendipitously seeping, creeping, to set itself a steeped place in concrete history and to above all else breathe like dancing trinkets of wanton wildfire. The chosen ones if only, and he is yet to fully realize or fully comprehend for himself to have ever really been seen as any such sort of a visionary talent and rapid-fire remedy. To the failings of the people that stand embarrassingly before him.
 
5Moving, tustling, blissfully manoeuvring roundabout this undesirably pock-marked, besmirching place – a commonplace complex tiny little shoebox apartment – calculated in convergent shape – that occupies the whole of the world’s widest, wisest, richest wishes stirred numerously within.
 
6This is the theatre of preordained dreams. And here we are wondrously met once again with the remarkably combative, jaded and behemothly battling Indian representation of one hard-graft son only now a fair few degrees of dilapidated genius have been innumerably bestowed upon him.
 
7The same one man who will single-handedly continue to forge ahead of himself and to somehow prove his own beneficial worth ten times too many, seen by none too many in his own chosen century of forgotten appraisal – only that he shall never, ever get to feel the rush of flavour-filled fervour, nonstop blood. To the malcontent head – soon as he fails at being forever satisfied as though just like the tarnished and towering heap of other pitifully paralysed greatest mathematicians, he cannot, should not, just will not ever miraculously manage to achieve such a plain-sailing perspective as this.
 
8What is hard was never built to be easy but there is a field of resilience for these people… And what is wholeheartedly advantageous for one will land another in the dusted surrounds of forlorn and fallen wordsmiths. Regrettably misplaced people languishing dutifully atop of the swollen bodies, wailing silhouetted features of the incredibly succinct people.
 
9Whose living, seething matter-of-fact failings at gradually adhering and momentarily ascertaining to these proven ultimatums in the first place improper, in the face of chosen adversity… Will ultimately leave them nudged posthumously ahead of themselves yet about to become strangely celebrated and, unfortunately, too-little-too-late blithe with worshipping time.
 
10One of a million kinds of kindly people altogether just… aforementioned too little. Too late. And wholeheartedly uninvited to the size of the simple-minded party.