1+1 = Window.

Feeling stringent discord for the hours that passed by.

Committed 6 hours to Precalculus, 2 for English, and 1 for Advanced Drama.

It's been awhile since I've thought that much in a day about work. But really, it's the best feeling after the day to know that you actually did something. And to that end...

I simply love math.

I love numbers. I love the way we can manipulate them in a solid manner that makes sense with the world--the way we can apply them to create what we want, what we need, and in such a sufficient manner at that. How digits, measurements, patterns and codes align themselves directly with what is around us, the universe. My brain buzzes as it waltzes with the proofs and functions I pin down on paper, writing fact, solving questions. The neat little numbers gaze up at the lead dispensing wood , wielded by the hand, with neurons of energy shooting from that mysterious world of mine, that sits on this neck. It all makes sense. It's quite a feeling to know that what you know is right. And the proof lies before you on that oak desk you've sat at for so long. Math is proof that we live in a logical world. Math is proof that our lives and all we come into contact with are governed by a solid concept that we may explore and comprehend.

Math is proof that what is, is.

I hate taking math though.

Fuck that class.