A Letter To the Subject of Math

Currently Listening: The Boy With an Anchor - Oh No Oh My

Dear Mathematics,

My brain is not wired for you.

You cause me stress.

I dislike you immensely.

My mind is wired for words, not numbers. Words that string together to form sentences. You have so many formulas that do not make any sense when they are placed next to each other. not like words, words almost always make sense when placed next to each other.

You confuse me, and for nothing!

I shall never use you in the world, and all the notes I take while I attempt to understand you will be meaningless!

You have your people. The people who are gifted with your numbers. Why are you so mean to me?

I can paint a picture with words, no paint do I need. I can carry on a conversation. I can level the brightest of minds, or reason with the dullest light bulb. Can your numbers do that?

No.

I laugh at your numbers.Your meaningless numbers.

Did you know that your numbers envy my letters? Oh yes, they do. Sometimes, the hide as letters. Never for long though. The people gifted with numbers and always find them, not matter how much they hide. So you see Math, you are not so great.

After all, if not for people like me, people gifted with words, you would be nameless.

People like me named you; we teach others about you. We sustain you.

Then, after all of this, you mock us, you poke us and prod us. You stab our eyes out, and drive us insane. After all we do for you, you do nothing in return.

I immensely dislike you, Math.

I will conquer you, because my words can beat your numbers.