Romantic Math-My-Torsion

Valentine Day 2009023

Mathematics is, as it were, a sensuous logic, and relates to philosophy as do the arts, music, and plastic art to Poetry. – K. Shegel

Keying into The Daily Post, I’ve decided to un-slump my blog and self by kicking my own self into writing more. This week they had some 50 word stories to inspire and I chose: On the importance of Not Being Literal by Standing Ovation, Seated. I saw “Romantic Mathematicians” and felt the words clawing to be freed, hence: Romantic Math-My-Torsion. I literally feel the twisting of life, family, and friends against the premise and f (function of me!) I could write a story, I could write a poem, but today I’ll just make another promise to myself that will likely go, yes, broken as most of my promises do. This is, I rarely remember them. It is one reason I avoid the phrase. I promise to blog every day of July if for no other reason to say I did. Hopefully there will be more than 2 paragraphs, which I suspect the Daily Post may help me with via their tips, suggestions, and inspirations. Onto it:

A conversation earlier today almost sent me to absolute frustration until I realized what was happening. Someone asked me to do something with no limitation then proceeded to limit how he or she wanted me to do it. It was like hosting Goldilocks or an ex-friend that used to drive us nuts during movies at my place. The only problem is I don’t live in a fairytale; Goldilocks did eventually get satisfied, but the ex friend did not. Is that why they are an ex friend? There is never one reason for such a break in friendship, which I consider one of life’s greatest tragedies or more accurately what I count to be part of my greater failures in life. I almost fell prey to that ghastly and ridiculous idea that I could “please” someone or “make” them anything… you know make someone happy, make someone excited, make someone blah, blah, blah! There is no pleasing anyone except yourself and I’m not talking personal objectification, although… ah, another chapter/time or place.

What I find romantic about Math is the clean lines of it. No emotional baggage to sort out or feelings to deal with during simple conversations! The ex friend used to explain her quirky if not bullying behavior by declaring “I’m sensitive” Holy SPLATZ Batman who the hell isn’t sensitive in one-way or another? Guess what I’m sensitive to, people’s erroneous bruising’s! It’s not my luggage so I’m not carrying it! I may be black, but contrary to the “INSENSITIVE” actions or beliefs of others, I’m not a porter! I have only been on a train three times in my 51 years of life so pick up your junk it haul ass to where ever else you think you can check it, because we’re full up in my house of my own, notice how I’m slinging it on my back you can and are expected to do the same. When my luggage gets heavy guess what I do…DROP IT and just let it go.

Today was the great reminder why my pursuit in life is a secluded domicile of nature, space, the dogs, a computer, big windows and time away from other people’s unworked out issues. Yes I will be a psychologist shortly, but therapeutic personal work with people in my life is starting to get OLD! I wonder how many surgeons and Mathematicians surreptitiously find themselves working during their off hours with people they know…hmm.

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