Arbitrary numbers scatter her mind's surface, Operationally stunted she scurried, For no deviation could solve the turmoil vested within, It was hope vested in the cosmos, An escape adorned in constellations, The unwinding of a student.
What is beautiful About reality Is what is beautiful About math There are Many things That have happened The things that have Produced this moment Are at most times ASTRONOMICAL Meaning so big It renders itself Incomprehensible Yet.. it happened
Even if the Numbers against Stand taller than The daisy itself Ever could It still remains In the meadow For you and I To see
Greater than all created things summed up And multiplied by immortality, The LORD attends to every buttercup And blade of grass and bird and bumblebee. The greatest knows the least; and every man His every hair has been accounted for; And all of him is fitted to God's plan The earth and chosen people to restore. Everything's His to give or take or loan, And nothing lies beyond His lone control. Everything's His, and every thing is known By Him who sees all parts and every whole. He understands, both root and all, and all In all, the flower in the crannied wall.
Should I become a middle school math or English teacher? Leave my bed early in the morning and return with test papers to grade. With what authority will I persuade those kids to sit still and perform calculations and interpretations. I won’t be allowed to teach A Good Man Is Hard To Find. Nope, it’ll be Catcher in the Rye, Lord of the Flies and Slaughterhouse Five. Novels that annoy. Poems and math are magic. Words and numbers are things no one has ever seen or heard or touched. But the administration keeps them separate. The curriculum’s determinate. The kids are beautiful but combustible. When middle school lets out at the periapsis of Earth’s orbit, that’s the face of joy.
The purpose of school is to introduce us to the world’s innumerable wonders. The periodic table, World Wars I and II, Huckleberry Finn and Jim. Once a gaggle of teenage girls bet whether I wore boxers or jockeys. I felt ambushed and unlucky. Also a bit afraid. There’s little love lost between the students and the teachers. Expect to forget and be forgotten. Information. I remember Mr. Killian my chemistry teacher. So boring about something I now find so interesting and important. He wasn’t boring; I was boring. I remember Mr. Christensen my history teacher. He was fat and funny but taught as little as possible. I was known to laugh so hard I cried. I remember Mr. T my calculus teacher. He dressed everyday exactly like Gene Kranz in mission control. I was confused past help so he didn’t help. I remember Tone Kwas my music teacher. He said I was the worst trumpet player he’d ever tried to teach and switched me to sousaphone. He was right but so what! Playing badly is the best riposte.
This world...our world , got it's differences.. It held a beautiful statistics..a brilliant geometry of lives..
People sketched, the unnecessary graphs.. in the name of castes , colour , gender , nationality and what not!! Hence created the ugliest line of division.. about ,who can be the numerator and be above the community line.. and who can be the denominator and live under the poverty line..
Some crafted wealthiest names..while others had to hide their tears under unfinished roofs.. Some chased for their own rise...while others have to eat the only rotten rice..
Multiplied the division deliberately.. Added up the differences wanting-ly..
We should evaporate the boundaries , we drew in our life's charts.... should redefine our lives , to decrease the death rates...
Let's choose humanity over cruelty.. Helping over hindering.. Love over hate..
Remember ,we all are alike.. 'cause every being has to make their first cry after birth.. 'cause every being has it's last breath.. every being has to breathe till death.. every being have to bleed when cut..
Math's creating the difference!! Science finding the solution.. Humanity is being jailed behind the bars of human's hearts!!!
Your way works sometimes My way works sometimes Their way works sometimes Without all ways, there would be no way, always Hey grey, you took the blue away Is it really going to rain all day? If the sky were only grey, it would rain all days Tomorrow is the big day, don't take it away To get to the big day, I lived through small days
Get it Egbert?
It's something that we were born with, but for some odd reason, a mad scientist got credit for it. Happy scientists, like Benjamin Franklin just used it for science.
All is Relative was said at a family reunion by a grandpa in West Virginia. Then he called the missing family members inbreds. Sinister