That I'm smarter than I thought I was.
That I am more determined than I thought I was.
That I myself am just a number.
That I may have masochistic tendencies.
That I have twenty more hours in my week than I realized, which I plan to fill with music and art and writing and the things that I love.
That failing means trying again. And again. And again.
That the third time
is a charm.
That the Academic System is set up to deter artists, liberal arts majors and socialists.
That four months of Spring whiz by like greased lightning when I am calculating and pondering and figuring.
That I need to make time to see the beauty in everything, even if it seems as if there isn't enough time.
That getting lost in numbers can be mesmerizing.
That in some unfathomable way I will miss it...
a very tiny bit.
That I admire my father even more, who was an electrical engineer and did math problems for fun.
That I will never be that person. And I'm okay with it.
That I wish I did this years ago, because my destiny might have been different.
That maybe I would be in the same exact place I am now regardless, according to the theory of Pi.
That I'm wondering what else I've told myself I cannot do in this life, and realizing it isn't true.
That sometimes I have to be ultra selfish with my time and energy.
That sometimes things fall through the cracks.
That I'm a tad melodramatic. And I'm okay with it. .
That I need less sleep than I thought.
That I also need more sleep than I thought.
That naps are luxurious.
That if I suppress my creativity long enough, it will explode through my dreams.
That every day is different, but math is always the same.
That everything is math.
That nothing is math.
That sometimes cigarettes and coca-cola after midnight are necessary.
That I don't really care what x equals.
That I do actually kind of care what x equals.
That I can do anything I set my mind to, whether I'm terrified, intimidated, tired, hungry, sad or angry. That all these things are fleeting; math is constant.
That I can see how math might comfort some people.
That I can focus my attention for hours on one thing.
That I can postpone instant gratification for something that matters to me.
That spoiling myself in other ways can be an incentive.
That I actually did it.
That my future is a wide open horizon.
That I create my own destiny.
That I'm a late bloomer. And I'm okay with it.
That I'm so fucking glad it's *over*!
That compared to Algebra, everything else in my life seems like Unicorns frolicking in candy meadows.
That freedom and time never quite seemed this sweet before.
Thank you, Algebra.
Don't let the door hit you on the way out.
