Beon [/'bē:än,ôn]
Verb
1. To be
In Practice
Sitting under the roof, shielded by pieces of tin plates, Bona Valman stirred from the inside. The rain landed outside and on his makeshift cover. It sounded quiet. Through the cracks of the plates, light emitted into the tiny shack of his. His dirty, black hair tangled, his ash nose wiggled, and lay back on the stacks of newspapers, seeking comfort and warmth before the sun arrive.
Valman, once a successful business man, was kicked out of his company years ago for committing what was known nowadays as white collar crime. He went on trials and was sentenced to a federal prison somewhere in the wilderness of an unknown state for five months. Time eclipsed at the moment he stepped out of the prison transport.
He had no memory of ever being in the prison, or signing the divorce paper, or anything before he moved to the sunny seaside beach house in California. The life he used to live had left him unattended. Upon release, he was homeless, clueless. He received only the jacket he wore and the watch he carried.
Being out of the prison was suppose to be a thing to celebrate, or at least be glad about. But not for Valman. No one was waiting for him, no transportation, no welcome home wagon, and certainly not the kisses that burned him sometimes during sleep.
The fragments of memories. Sometimes he could see clearly into the past, but then there were always some kind of a variation of the same event he remembered, like a copies of the draft and the final product in a play. He couldn't rely on his memory.
Though he knew he lived in Los Angeles because his drivers license told him so.
Sunk Cost for Users of Internet Explorer
A new Zero-Day vulnerability had been discovered in every major version of Microsoft's Internet Explorer, ranging from version 6 through 11.
The exploit, made aware on Saturday to the public, is a remote code execution vulnerability, according to a security advisory post on Security Center, and would affect all supported version of the Windows Operating System, though Server Core are otherwise unaffected since they are running on Enhanced Security Configuration.
The exploit, made aware on Saturday to the public, is a remote code execution vulnerability, according to a security advisory post on Security Center, and would affect all supported version of the Windows Operating System, though Server Core are otherwise unaffected since they are running on Enhanced Security Configuration.
Aftertaste
The sourness lingered in Lo's taste buds after she had licked the plum juice off her fingertips.
She had found the glass container beneath her stuff in the basement just this morning, and was curious about how it would taste like. The plum, which had been stored for some years, had turned its color from the initial bright green to the now dark brown. Its juice, too, slipped a trace of darkness in it.
These plums, made by Lo and her mother, had been sitting idle, gathering dust in the darkest, dampness corner of the house, absorbing the coolest chill of the winter and hottest burn of the summer, though the glossy bottle had persevered the contents inside well enough they weren't spoiled. At least when Lo torn away the few coats of clothes and pried open the covering lid, it didn't gave the smell of rotten alcohol, or that godforsaken flavor of the trench feet her father carried around. However, it did give out that irritating sourness that had Lo's nose contracted at first contact.
Lo ran upstairs and came back with a cleaning cloth in her hand. With a few wipes, the plums juggled in the light of the day. She lifted it off the floor easily and brought it to ground level. It was then put on the table, where the sun beamed brightly.
Lo rocked the container lightly on the table, a little push here and there. The round, fat plums swam in the iodine water, crashing into each other.
Pipe Worm
The worm squirmed and shrieked as it advanced forward at an impossible speed of still motion. Its harsh screaming echoed throughout the damp and dirty sewage pipe, swallowing the air and embracing the darkness. The turbid waste flowed in the same direction, the murky gases combusted in the air, and the dripping water ticked and tocked.
Bounded by nothing, the burdenless worm crawled forward fearlessly. Its body slid on cold and grease surface, rubbed across wet and burning acid, struggled through hard and soft feces. It anticipated nothing of superior, nor of inferior. The worm simply travelled in the pipe that was unbeknownst to it with an utter faith that it would lead to somewhere, and the ending of its life should not be lacked of trying, but tired from trying.
The foam-like muscle of the worm strengthened with every contract and relax, and soon it became rigid and hard, and it was forced to stop. The worm looked like a stone then, a perfectly camouflaged creature in the underground, away from the predators in the water. Later when it restored its ability to wriggle, it didn't stop until it became immobile again.
It was under such condition that the worm crept for days and nights, without the need of water, food, sleep, but an unshakable belief. Eventually it arrived at an opening leading toward the sea. The worm dipped its head into the salty water and trembled involuntarily for hours after that. Then something, a part of his body, changed so rapidly that it didn't realize until it stopped shivering.
The worm had now transcended beyond any known creatures on earth. It had been converted into something else. There was a craving inside, a bloodlust, not for food, or even blood, but to evolve, and convert again.
With this fresh conviction, the creature dove into the vast ocean, in a blind search for the next element.
Bounded by nothing, the burdenless worm crawled forward fearlessly. Its body slid on cold and grease surface, rubbed across wet and burning acid, struggled through hard and soft feces. It anticipated nothing of superior, nor of inferior. The worm simply travelled in the pipe that was unbeknownst to it with an utter faith that it would lead to somewhere, and the ending of its life should not be lacked of trying, but tired from trying.
The foam-like muscle of the worm strengthened with every contract and relax, and soon it became rigid and hard, and it was forced to stop. The worm looked like a stone then, a perfectly camouflaged creature in the underground, away from the predators in the water. Later when it restored its ability to wriggle, it didn't stop until it became immobile again.
It was under such condition that the worm crept for days and nights, without the need of water, food, sleep, but an unshakable belief. Eventually it arrived at an opening leading toward the sea. The worm dipped its head into the salty water and trembled involuntarily for hours after that. Then something, a part of his body, changed so rapidly that it didn't realize until it stopped shivering.
The worm had now transcended beyond any known creatures on earth. It had been converted into something else. There was a craving inside, a bloodlust, not for food, or even blood, but to evolve, and convert again.
With this fresh conviction, the creature dove into the vast ocean, in a blind search for the next element.
Jazz Appreciation
Remember that I've talked about studying a course on edX that's called Jazz Appreciation back in my monthly update? Well, it's finally come to the end of the course. And here is the certificate. It's also the first certificate I've received from edX since it's launch back in 2012.
Camp NaNoWriMo Day 5
So, I wonder how fast my hair will grow in a month. Camp NaNoWriMo is wearing me down, but I am not dead yet. pic.twitter.com/oNDRlUtfJF
— Stephen Y (@writeryuii) April 5, 2014
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