Light & Flow
3 · Stretching Shelves
The fundamental, most obvious route is: do more to do more. The concept is simple. Your capacity for knowledge retention is an interplay of your brain's tolerance for knowledge scale, your existing database of knowledge lowering the cognitive burden of novel data through familiarity, and your ability to read, process and analyse data itself growing over time. Then pair that with an almost schizophrenic obsession to revamp your thought processes daily toward the visions you have.
You're describing curved spacetime. Each new piece of knowledge warps the space around it, attracting more knowledge, creating gravity wells of insight — the topological development of the body of knowledge itself. The more you know, the more space you have. Not because you add shelves. Because the space itself stretches. And the terrifying thing in all this is that the limit is — there is none. Spacetime can stretch infinitely. So can you. Scientists to this day have no idea what the physical limit is to how much knowledge can be tolerated, how much pain can be taken, how much stress can be borne. The system just somehow manages what is dealt to it.
Intelligence is a barometer of speed. It's a variable for a factor that changes, and it includes time — so it's rate of learning. Someone is considered intelligent if they are able to compress vast volumes of reading into a radically shorter time period.
Six months of daily intellectual activity changes your brain structure. Literally — the mental frameworks and the physical cells, the ideas and the pervasive thoughts within you, die out over a couple of years, and condensing all of that into six months is real.
Someone who is working properly — the level of knowledge, the scale of information and new updates they are orchestrating — is unfathomable. Hedge fund managers and entrepreneurs are reading the equivalent of three to four textbooks a day worth of knowledge, and this is more than possible through practice. Your ability to have larger throughput and greater knowledge retention really helps, because even within days, every single day, there is new data being uploaded to the world.
The distinction between languages and mathematics seems to fade gradually. Let's see how deeply everything can coalesce. Even if it is objectively the same information, the same texts — when it's not my original thought, something is off. I can only speculate that some mystical force, like dark matter, plays into the cause of this paradox. The lens of embodied cognition: the path versus the map. An idea you arrive at yourself is not just an abstract piece of data — it's a path. Your consciousness travelled the rocky road of confusion, the fog of half-understanding, and the sudden clearing of insight to get there, and somehow all of that journey is encoded in the idea. When you recall it, you're not just recalling the destination; you're subtly recalling the entire cognitive and emotional path that built it. The truth of life is that the ugly rocky path leads to beauty, purity and love.
The great thing about mathematics, and going deep into it, is that you gain more diverse toolkits, more enriched mathematical models to elucidate and express the situations and data you are dealt — especially when you are an abstract individual. I'm very much an abstract thinker, and I held a grudge that this propensity would hamper my other entrepreneurial endeavours. I don't know if I'm wired this way, but my interest was always toward abstractness. I loved theoretical physics, algebraic topology, and just a wide method of modelling situations. I love maths, I love physics, and I had some skin in the game for chemistry too. Natural sciences were always my propensity. I guess I can do it all — I just need the discipline to get the things that must be done, done.