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At MIT, I learned about RNNs in my NLP class with Prof. Michael Collins. He built a model from my keystrokes to predict who I was. To me, it felt like a magic box. Years later, when I had to teach RNNs, I forced myself to go inside the...

220,876 просмотров • 10 месяцев назад •via X (Twitter)

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I don’t know how my brain works. Actually, I’m not sure it works. Tonight we’re watching TV with the kids, I grab a Coke, sit down and place the can on the coffee table. And then my brain, this haunted little hamster wheel, goes: “Remember when Yoongi opened a can with one hand?” So naturally I think:“Interesting. I too have a hand.” I lift the tab.I struggle.I inhale like I’m defusing a bomb. Then I try to push the tab back Still one hand.Still committed.Still delusional. I concentrate. I breathe because apparently I’m in a documentary called Woman vs Aluminum. Then the can slips. Coke launches itself across the table like it had waited years for freedom. Everything is wet. The floor. The table. My credibility as a parent. I just stare at it and go: “…oh.” My son turns to me like he just witnessed a workplace accident. “Maman. What are you DOING?” Me, soaked in consequences: “I wanted to see if I could open it with one hand.” Him: “WHY?” And before I can even invent a normal reason, my daughter sighs from the couch. “Yoongi did it in the last live. She thought it was sexy.” My son facepalms so hard I think he saw 2027. “Seriously? Are you going to try EVERYTHING they do?” Me: “No?” My daughter, already opening the evidence folder: “Fly yoga was because of them.” My son: “Climbing too.” Her: “Dance classes.” Him: “Korean cooking workshops.” Her: “The skincare routine.” My son looked at the Coke crime scene, then at me, and said: “Maman. At this point BTS are not idols. They are your remote control” Anyway, I am currently cleaning the floor. And reflecting on my choices.😬

French Army_C | ⊙⊝⊜

14,162 просмотров • 3 месяцев назад

Asked to reflect on navigating a “hellish” public breakup, Perrie acknowledges that she receives criticism for answering questions about it, “[but] I’m like, ‘But it really affected me massively’”: “People are gonna hate me talking about it… I can’t catch a break. If I talk about this, they’re like: ‘Why are you talking about it?!’ But anyway, shut up! Yeah, [it’s my life]. When you go through heartbreak, it is hellish. You can’t eat, you can’t sleep, you feel horrendous. You don’t feel good enough and you feel like you’ve been left for something better, or whatever it is… Then what makes it even worse is, I feel like the world was then looking at me, laughing at me. I felt embarrassed; I felt horrified. I had serious breakdowns. I did. Because it wasn’t just the heartbreak I was dealing with. I was dealing with everybody looking at me, and I felt ridiculed. I just couldn’t cope with it; I hated it. I was breaking down in performances, which isn’t like me at all. I was crying constantly. I think I was depressed… I know that sounds ridiculous! But I think it was this plus this plus this, and everything on top. It was like, I had to be there for the girls; I had to be switched on; I had to power through for Little Mix – but I also just wanted to be left the fuck alone. But I also was getting followed every two seconds and asked about it 24/7, and it was the headlines, it was everywhere, and it was a lot! And this is the thing – when people are like, ‘Stop talking about it!’ I’m like, ‘But it really affected me massively’.”

JADE tea room ☕️

242,463 просмотров • 2 месяцев назад

🙏♥️🙏 "Hey... you alright, kid? You got someone?" I remember trying to answer, but my voice barely came out. "Just me..." I was pulled from beneath twisted metal, shaking so hard I could hardly breathe. Everything felt loud and empty at the same time-until he stepped into it. Sergeant Marcus Hayes. He didn't ask many questions. He didn't make a speech. He just lifted me gently into his arms and said, "You're safe now." And somehow... I believed him. From that moment on, he never really let me go. At the camp, he'd slide part of his meal onto my tray without a word. He showed me how to tie my boots, slow and patient, like it mattered. On the nights when the silence got too heavy and I couldn't stop crying, he'd sit nearby—never forcing me to talk, just making sure I wasn't alone. He wasn't trying to be a hero. He was just choosing to care. And that changed everything. When he brought me home, he didn't just give me a place to stay—he gave me a life to grow into. He became the steady presence I didn't know I needed. He taught me how to stand tall when things felt impossible... how to keep my word even when no one was watching... how to become someone I could be proud of. I watched him in the quiet moments— shaving in the mirror, fixing the truck in the driveway, folding his uniform with care and discipline. Every little thing meant something. And without realizing it, I started building myself in his image. Years later, 1 wear that same uniform. And every time I stand in front of the mirror, adjusting it just right... I don't just see myself. I see Sergeant Marcus Hayes standing behind me quiet, steady, and proud 🙏♥️🙏

G-PA INDY

31,752 просмотров • 5 месяцев назад