Last night, my family watched the Olympics. We aren't able to do that at home, so it was really exciting.
I love the Olympics. It's dramatic, thrilling, and fun to watch.
Yesterday, we were watching track and field. It goes by very fast, and the people running beat each other by just a tenth of second! It's so close.
But sometimes I feel for the contestants. They look so pressured, and I wouldn't want to feel that way.
It might be fun to be in the Olympics, but it's probably much harder than it seems. So I guess I'll just keep watching them instead!

Usain Bolt won the mens' 100m run, and Ryan Baily, from AMERICA :), won second! Also, after China, the USA has the second most gold medals in all of the Olympic sports. That's pretty good!
Here is a picture:

Cooking is an experiment in itself. Keep playing around with ingredients, amounts, proportions, and maybe it’ll be right.

But baking is different. Proportion is the key thing. If you miss one ingredient, or cook it for to long, your product won’t turn out as well.

My brother can’t eat gluten our dairy, so him and I try to make gluten free dairy free treats. We just made muffins, and they actually turned out pretty good!

However, we’ve made other foods, and they’ve turned out awful!

Life is an experiment, mixing up different things along the way. Every moment that passes by is an ingredient to the final dish. But I wonder: when do you taste the final dish?

Maybe in the afterlife? In a parrelel world once your done with Earth’s? We will never know.

Where do you go when you’ve, well, checked out? Once your done baking?

It makes me sad to think about that.

I can’t imagine myself any older. It feels like I’ll always be 12! But then time keeps ticking. I see videos of my self at age 5, how was I ever that age?

Even as I’m typing, second by second we’re moving: time is moving, life is moving.

Moving, moving. The Earth is a giant cruise ship, moving and floating through space. Moving, moving, through moments, through space, through life, time. We are the fingers on the clock, repeating our days over and over again.

My dad used to tell me: repetition and difference. Everything is a repetition of something else, with a slight difference.

Each day is a repetition of another day, but with a difference.

Anyway, I think that’s an interesting concept.

I like concepts, theories, ideas. They all come from questions. And I know I have millions of questions. And all of those will lead to new concepts, new theories, new ideas.

And those will lead to more questions, more answers, then more contemplation. Repetition, and difference.