#arithmetic
Is there anything left to learn from the news cycle anymore?
You’re either pro-totalitarianism or you’re not. periodt.
True, Trump is erratic, anti-life and anti-meaning –
but it’s never a good time to drop a piano on someone.
I was born in Paris, I enjoy dual citizenship, but I consider myself American. As a child we lived a few years (like 5th and 6th grades) in Paris and I’m living there now, attending Université Paris Cité.
My French is flawless, I dress French and act French but when Trump crazy comes up, I get looks (how do they know?), like he’s my fault or problem and for heaven’s sake I should step in and stop him.
Americans used to be looked up to - those days are over people -
we ****
It's subtle, but I get the arithmetic, there’s a calculation where my American ‘ethnicity’ (shall we say) subtracts from my opportunities, relationships and respect. Oh, my, poor me.
Peter (my bf) fake-gasps, “There’s a dent in your “pretty privilege?” (he’s so funny)
“Oh, turn it on me,” I groaned, “I’m just saying..”
That’s when he admitted that he’d sensed it too, as an American in Paris - and normally guys aren’t usually that sensitive - are they?
(sorry guys)
.
.
Songs for this:
Deal With the Devil by The Speakeasies' Swing Band!
Soda Pop Confusion by Variety Lab & Kidsaredead
Feb 18
Feb 18, 2026 at 10:38 AM UTC
its just so painful,
so hard for me to comprehend,
that my very soul
would ever fit into the ciphering world,
to speak its lingua franca .
even the abc's seem like
like the burning sensations of a finger
roasting on burning coals.
the Ice never seems to melt under blazing heat
on which it lies
oh how my soul longs to dematerialize
yet i do wish i do not.
Failure is the only bell
that tolls my eardrums
oh why did my green soul
pluck up the guts
the guts to enter the Kingdom of Geniuses?
i desire an army seal
to set me free
to be free as a citizen
inside this kingdom
The Kingdom of Geniuses
Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 7:32 PM UTC
A sweet smile is an important part
The formula to capturing my heart
Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 5:26 AM UTC
one plus one will always be two
one plus two, you hate me do you?
two plus three, has it always been me?
three plus five, i want to see what you hide.
five plus eight, we fulfilled our fate
then there's eight plus thirteen.
if you stop, how do i begin?
for one plus no-one will never be two.
Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 6:38 AM UTC
The little zero is big magic.
Count on any number in the number set.
Zero can give the heaps the giant leap,
yet no number can square it,
not even the complete set of digits.
Science trailing through the zero and one
leads the digital age, continues to grow.
What's in a number is in the know,
but what's in a zero?
Now let’s take a trip into the matrix
without the arithmetic pill of the zero orb.
This time let it be with a poetic dose!
Should you not bask in the sun,
dipped only dew-deep,
shimmering in the sea of its deep
shadow in one little drop?
Can you touch a moon
up high, waxing lyrical
above the billowing ocean?
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 11:38 PM UTC
They shouted "arithmetic sequence is troublesome"
And I uttered "it is not"
Just memorize the formula
And you'll get everything right
It is not complicated as it looks
Don't be intimidated by the formula an-a1+(n-1)d
Never let the look if it deceive you
Or you'll end up being *******
Wasn't able to comprehend at first
It'll always be hard at first
But as we enhance iur skill
Just like the sequence, our mistakes will shrink
Allot your time and effort
Even when your brain will distort
The day will come when it'll be easy
You'll be great at it, trust me
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 1:46 PM UTC
I’d imagined her in the fields of
Tea; one, “she,” with hair born ink,
Perfectly-lined pearls,
A soon to be smile,
Wells for eyes, lost,
So very starved to be saved
And a'tic-tac-toe
Scarred the earth upon back,
So mimicked the sun.
So clucked the tribulation.
We, and after, “we,”
****** We trust
And two necks rocked backward
Under an unrelenting moon,
Could become, “we,”
With an already, “she,” and now the
“He,” a'wander before stars -
A wish and the only she’d wanted,
By name of, “touch;”
So one, the sun scorched rice,
And second, red stained the field,
And so on, the son missed home,
And once more, one son stood ground
And another sun held his hand,
So built, this newer home
Come allowed and growing old;
Together.
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 10:57 PM UTC