Monday, December 28, 2009
Out of love, I study regions which relate to developments whose results are inconsistent, but which are often replicated, by others, as if consistent. In this unvaried work, linkages I have made are never followed, and the only real, palpable phenomenon I am able to meaningfully point to indicates a general and natural disequilibrium. I am still a poor man as a direct result. Nonetheless, I have attempted to sequence these partial, flawed findings, in such a way as to at least highlight practical approaches which might yeild up a kind of causation in the end. Yes, I am poor, but I am also hopelessly romantic. P2RX7 equals XTPH1, for instance. But it does not end there. I have detected other similarly significant peaks; notably, 6q as 8q21. Consistent focus appears to infer consistency itself; but, at ever turn, and as I publicise or try to socialise what I have discovered, materials become black and their logic invisible. For myself, and because of this, I am near the end of some irreplaceable tether. Despite my applications and this being my life's work, loci replicates, on chromosome, on and on, forever, as heterogeneity; so much so that I am being implicated in the disorder itself... moreover and more exactly, hypothesis increases, and I am disorder per se.