A Mathematician's Dream

I dreamt a dream, a dream so vivid, I confused a fantasy with what I was living. A dream so real I couldn’t forget it, a straight line theme but I wanted to twist it, turn it into a dream into a prostitute so I couldn’t kiss it, it became annoying so when it left me I felt no need to miss it. Life is a board and you are the checker, if you don’t jump into kingship you’ll be haunted by the specter. A ghostly apparition, a roadblock in the completion of a mission, a fattening diet makes you in no way conditioned, so for the task ahead you hope it concedes to remission. How about we make the dream benign, it frequents the battlefield that is known as your mind. You can beat it that’s why your teeth always grind, you say you can beat it but you find yourself pushing the continue button one more time. In 7 days God made the heavens and the earth, add 5 to that and you get the number of months in a year that makes you berserk. 1 + 16 + 18 + 9 + 12 = 56. This also means something else whether you get paid or get another bill, because this number combination equals the month of April. Now if my calculations were correct this is the month you get your check, if you are wise you put some away for retirement, if you’re a gangsta you purchase another tech. Wait that makes no sense, gangsta’s have no nine to five, the payback they know is when a rival hood drives by. Now take the multipliers of this number and you get 9 * 7, a recurring number that makes your burdens get lessened. Another week for which you have been blessed, and an extra 2 days off to avoid stress. 1 + 1 = a couple in trouble, she wants him to quit, he thinks she’s knockin the hustle. “We eatin so bitch why the fuck is you trippin?” As so eloquently put by Dwayne Michael Carter Jr., she’s not a piano, so when she goes out you are happy because that’s what you tuned her. Deep down you wonder what broke up your happy home, maybe it’s because you both stopped clicking like a metronome. Maybe as I sit here one could think these are the ramblings of a mad man, people probably hate on me more than if I was an Iraqi or an Afghan. I wasn’t ready for the truth, I thought I had my situations tight, but I was so uncouth, a dream overwhelming heavy indeed, thought the pace I was going was cool, but you wanted me to decrease my speed. I hate this, all the opportunities and I left them sift through my fingers, I disgraced myself more than Johnny Knoxville in The Ringer. 3 + 25 = 28, ironic cuz that was the number of minutes today I was late. 7 *4 equal this number, and still with my abilities, I ended up here God I wonder.. is this the life You wanted for me, to be miserable and then sing a brutal melody. No, I can’t blame you, it’s my fault I’m divided, and it’s my fault that I didn’t utilize all the opportunities I was provided, it’s my fault I couldn’t put together 2 & 2, and then when I realized it, the opportunity was the thing I already blew. I’m single, I just want a matching boo, but before I can I to solve this catch 22. When I add up the division I get 7 and 4, so now I’m enraptured with my dream that much more. It’s sad the unwarranted hype that comes with a degree, you don’t believe? A prime example of belief in the hype is me, I could have made it but now I’m too comfortable with the system that’s more poignant than the sting from a bee. As an artist, a premonition is the only way you could ever see me, but I’ll hide that dream until later, now I must go back to grading this paper…

- JioVanni