The multiplication of complexity in math can only occur if there are simple agreements made of previous complexity.
So it is not so much a "web" but a house of cards.

It seems no real studying gets done unless I solve a millennium prize.

In fact, not answering a math question exactly like pedagogy is just using common sense.
It seems like such an easy statement from induction, but so profound from deduction.

I want to say "good bye Alyssa",
Not just "see ya".
I want to tell you that I love you,
And always miss ya.
You pay attention to the news,
You study and reflect.
I meet the daughter of my dreams, and her beautiful husband.

Words.
That name seems to have more meaning than how I perceive things.

The self-math brain leaves me with only a space in my head, even without a tongue.
Ready to reflect only "numbers" back at myself.
It is rather humiliating actually not to have a narrative in my brain besides "math", "math", and again "math".

Will I ever want to build or make something really detailed, or thereby solve something detailed?
Or, do I simply want to float away on fundamentals and never make anything?
Simply knowing the parts and never creating structure?
Because that structure always has to be unlike the structure with which  I associate my soul - the human temple.
Thus I discard them.
I see not benefit from the extra makings of the human mind.
I am as a cave man.
It would be much more beneficial if my soul associated with a body that was dependent on the mind rather than independent from it.
As if I had no soul with God, no peace with God, no spirit with God.
No peace, soul, or spirit with nature either, but only peace in human invention.

It seems learning is realizing the particulars of what I already know.
For once I got a breadth of what the universe consists of, learning about it got a glassy quality.
What is "the particulars"?
What differentiates them from the general concept?
The particulars are forgotten in short term memory, but while understanding them, they give a sense of truth as if the concepts themselves were a lie.
Rather, the concepts were for children and the particulars for adults.
Yes, who will become an adult in mathematics?
"I don't want to grow up," my essence affirms.
For I know that once I grow up, I can no longer act as a child.
"I want to grow up," my reason delineates.
For a child cannot truly help understand its unknown areas.
My child reasons: "but I can imagine a way to do it!"
What would a child be if not hopeful?

I read: it's not just about having the facet of knowledge but when to use them.
Thus, children reason in a world that hasn't gone down the rabbit hole.
Adults reason already in wonderland.
I must view the wisdom of adults as sheer madness, while the knowledge of the child as mere anger, instead of the other way around.
Maybe I don't want to lose my reckless quality of knowledge - somehow I can cheat the system!
Probably the rebel never dies.
Maybe that's what I hope the most.
I shouldn't see my knowledge being able to undercut wisdom, nor wisdom devoid of mystery.

The fact that mathematics does not engage the language brain, but instead the spacial and number connections, means that an invention will inherently be spacial first and from this proven in numbers.

I know a soul who courages on.
I know a soul who smiles when things go wrong.
I know a soul who has eyes that cures bad songs.

She lives in a world that continually changes.

And I want her see, that God's mercy has nothing to do with me.
So angels give her visions that no one else can see.
Angels make her feel truly free.

So she will live in world that's comparatively strange.

So she may walk on this Earth as in heaven.
Like she hasn't changed since age eleven.
So she'll really know what kind of thoughts I'm craving.

I'm not perfect, I cringe.

Whenever the human heart is placed in my hands.
Please, angels help her stand,
Amongst the devotees who always can.

Make her know that in heaven love never begins.

Because the world is always making a fool of me.
But make her soldier on without me.
Give her thoughts heavenly.

That she will know the expanses of knowledge.

Angels make her read,
Angels make her write as she needs.
Angels give her good deeds.

Angels help her contemplate.

Even math geniuses can't know what an equation means without telling what its variables stand for.

When reading math makes sense, it cannot be put into words truly.
But when writing proofs in symbols, it cannot take place of language either.
However, without combining symbology and language, I won't be able to comprehend.

All the ways of math are so hard to memorize, its study is more about the (not) mere study than the completion of pedagogy.
That is the difference between the genius and the degree.
Study, reflect, wrestle, struggle.
That is the very definition of genius, not an A on every course.
Moreover, although it would seem that one could complete the pedagogy, it is never complete unless the whole is memorized and one is capable of using any part of it at the drop of a hat.
I don't even know if I've met someone like this, although some professors on YouTube seem to exemplify this.

Autodidacticism is about making my study space become alive with the insight of other self-directed learners.
From Addison's dad, Mr. Strilich, Mr. Philpott, to even da Vinci.
Thanks guys.

If I'm answering math problems in language, it means I haven't developed my symbolic number and spacial brain enough.

The child thinks the simplest, and therefore is the object of the simplest questions.
It also gets the most heat from those sure of themselves.
The child is the source of the deepest learning and is therefore the Source of enlightenment.

Atheism is the highest form of divine reason.

Math seems too abstract to put to any practical use.
Yet linear algebra is how the world of computers works, they say.
It must be a love affair with my spacial and numbers brain.
The ***** is imagination
And the ****** is common sense.
I'm awful at creating new ideas.
It is the way all those symbols make me feel stupid.
How am I even supposed to know if I get the problems right without a teacher?
Someone I can go to for help.
I don't mean things like Google search, stackexchange, or freemathhelp.
I mean someone I can rely on to always see me through a problem.
In a way it's as if my math was stuck in history, and I have to come up with all the answers for the last 100 years.
Like, "oh boy", too bad for civilization.
Maybe my one hope right now is that I come up with a new way to find the answer.
See, math requires hope.
Because love gets embittered.
Love gets tested.
Hope but the size of a mustard seed that makes me crack the book.

I have to stop thinking about math symbology as a part of a hierarchy, but rather an ad hoc system where everyone must be familiar with everyone else.

I have faith that God exists, but it borders on opinion.
It is either a secondary subjective opinion from say a Prophet or believer, or it is a first-hand subjective feeling of the presence of God which is like faith (as Kant defined opinion and faith).
I would say that God is not objective knowledge, though objectivity can be applied to It.

Then by what is meant by soul is subjectivity.
All gods are imperfect.
To make perfection a god is to separate it from life.
Therefore, God is as a zero orbit to which perfections are a decreasing in number (to the number brain).
For to give God an outer boundary would be to deny the universe, and to give God a lower boundary would proclaim zero degrees Kelvin.
Therefore, God is a limit, but for which all my soul's life or lives can never reach.
Prophets merely remind me that science involves different universes and that my subjectivity will never come to an end.
Just as energy can never be destroyed or created.
The Eastern Avatars are here to remind me that my subjectivity has had no beginning inasmuch that I can only progress from rereading history.

The crux of the argument is that once coherence is reached, it is met with more chaos.
Thus, the book of atheism is neverending just as the concept of a perfect god will never be attained or eliminated.

But what of truth?
Shall it not always remain both objective and subjective?
(Alchemists always believe in a baseless bridge.)

Why do I want you?
That ***** look
Of a bed of many lovers?
What sets you apart from a young ****** untouched?
Because I've grown to love all your ways.
Those high full hips,
That shimmering face.
That Marine mentality though formulated as a city chick.
What makes your "can't have me" feel, as you stare into your phone, so much better than a ****** opt to hearken to hear me out?
What have you stolen from me, I ask?
The "I'm sorries" and "I hate that songs"?
The "what the *****", the talk of ***** and water?
You have shaped yourself as one that has friends, that goes out, that parties, the opinionated person still with humility and grace.
I have none of these.
Yet what makes you different than the philosophizing woman, or the pure untouched one?
Or the one who talks of the news and has found reflection?
Do your ways undress me and intice my primal instinct?
Why does your thorn look like a flower?
Without your beauty, you I would not consider.
Why has she imprisoned me by walls and bars?
How has a look and charm benumbed my intelligence?
I can only say that my idea of love doesn't flow into my eyes, and my idea of desire only flows there.
Why are these two different worlds?
To mix the two would make me jealously mad.
The dichotomy makes me fake.