# Diary, April 1995

``` Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat

1
2   3   4   5   6   7   8
9  10  11  12  13  14  15
16  17  18  19  20  21  22
23  24  25  26  27  28  29
30
```

## Wednesday, April 5, 1995

The last weeks I have been busy with writing a program that can determine the recurrence equations for the number of Hamilton cycles in the graphs `Pn x Pi`, where `n` is fixed, and `i` is the parameter of the recurrence equation.

Yesterday, my program found a solution for `P7 x Pi`, which is: C(2i + 1) = 0, C(2) = 1, C(4) = 92, C(6) = 5320, C(8) = 301384, C(10) = 17066492, C(12) = 966656134, C(14) = 54756073582, C(16) = 3101696069920, C(18) = 175698206778318, C(20) = 9952578156814524, C(22) = 563772503196695338, C(24) = 31935387285412942410, C(26) = 1809007988782552388490, C(28) = 102472842263117124008066, C(30) = 5804663918990466729365476, C(32) = 328810272735298761062754308, C(34) = 18625745945872429428768223714, C(36) = 1055071695766249759732087999456, and C(i) = 85C(i-2) - 1932C(i-4) + 20403C(i-6) - 116734C(i-8) + 386724C(i-10) - 815141C(i-12) + 1251439C(i-14) - 1690670C(i-16) + 2681994C(i-18) - 4008954C(n-20) + 3390877C(i-22) - 1036420C(i-24) - 178842C(i-26) + 92790C(i-28) + 17732C(n-30) - 5972C(i-32) + 1728C(i-34) + 144C(i-36).

If you do not understand it, don't worry, it is probably my problem, in not explaining it clear enough.

### Paris

Tomorrow, Li-Xia, my mother-in-law and I will go to Paris for two days. None of us has been there before, so we do not know what to expect. For my mother-in-law it might be the last opportunity to visit Paris, because she will go home to Urumqi in China on the 17th.

## Monday, April 24, 1995

The following is something I wrote some months ago, when writing some report on concepts to be used in our research project. I had worked on it for the whole day and evening, when I wrote this:
Sometimes, I find myself thinking about things, and it seems that everything comes down to the same thing. A kind of confusion in which everything seems to be floating around. Nothing has a fixed position and everything is everything else at the same time. In a world of relativities nothing real seems to be able to exist. In a sense computer science has become a very philosophical science because each word has been used to denote too many things by to many people. It is a very abstract science, a science of thoughts.

I miss my music. Music collected in the past, but given away to beloved friends. I need to experience emotions. To feel that I am alive. I love music, dramatic music, to let my self being engulfed in it. To experience being, and yet to bow in humble adoration to God, my Creator. I find it terrible to live in a world that defies the existence and being of God, Whose name is unspeakable and Who can only be known spiritual. It is impossible to express this intimate communion with God in the words of man.

Yes, I am a melancholical personality. God created me so that I could know Him. To fulfil both His and my joy. Yet Gods Joy is complete already. To be with Him is the only thing I truely long after. In Him there is life, everlasting life. And this everlasting life is never boring, because it is the highest form of being, fully expressing everything He laid in each of us.

Not long ago I heard of someone claiming to have achieved full enlightment. Immediately my soul jumped up, for an at that time unknown reason. How our soul yearns to be lifted up from the daily sorrows into the sky. But how do you know what true enlightment is I thought, almost immediately. How clever that this person could make other believe this claim of achieving full enlightment.

And again I find myself going round in circles. As soon as you try to proof the truth of anything that can only be appreciated spiritual you end up walking in circles. Either you understand, or you do not. Either you are spiritual or you are not. (You could replace the word `spiritual' by the word `enlighted' in this paragraph.)

Why should I say: I am a Christian, and why should I defend myself against anybody about this statement. Me knowing God is something that cannot and should not be proven. But yet I feel alone, and misunderstood when being around people do not know God.

The people, they rage against God. (From a song by Adrian Snell.) Why is there no peace? Because people are rebellious. This world makes me sick, I become sick of myself. And again I feel like running in circles. Really nothing makes sense the more you think about it. I should stop thinking. But fleeing in feelings, is that what I should do? I am like a lonely person crying in the desert. And no-one hears my voice on earth. The desert is within, the emptiness, who can see it. And yet we all know it. We all are the same.

How long can I go on, typing senseless paragraphs, without ever knowing anything more. My world consists of words, letters, apparently ordered in arbitrary order.

What must I do? Stop this senseless typing? I don't know?

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