In a Japanese cartoon, Doraemon, there is a scene where Nobita is worried that “If I eat this chestnut bun, it will be delicious, but it will go away. If I don’t eat it, it will stay here. But in this case, I don’t taste it.”
When I was young, I mean before I went to Kindergarten, I had a similar problem with Nobita. My father advised me “You should eat only half of it at a time. Then, the other half always remains. You can continue eating half of the remaining half forever.”
But I thought that the cake (my problem wasn’t chestnut bun) would become smaller and smaller. My father told me “If you feel it is too small and it isn’t enough, you should eat more. It will never disappear.” I felt like I was being deceived by him. But I was more concerned how far I could go. How small the cake could be divided into?
My father told me that there was a limitation. Ordinary matter like the cake was composed of atoms and electrons, and atoms were composed of protons and neutrons. I asked him if protons and neutrons are composed of other particles. He told me about quarks without confidence.
That piece of cake made me interested in the fundamental building blocks that make up the world. I, however, chose astrophysics rather than particle physics as my field for some reason.