Fog over the City

Winter came and the sun left. Now I’m home with pizza and TV and math homework, which is fine because that’s exactly what winter is for—sitting somewhere warm while the rest of the world stays dark. Civilization has its uses.

Becca’s in Hamburg for some party weekend. Ana’s off doing whatever she does. I’m here. And the math I’m supposed to be learning is something I genuinely hate, not like a joke about homework but actually hate it, this pure uncomplicated hatred of numbers and equations. I don’t know why anyone expects them to make sense.

I walked around earlier thinking about people and changes, all the small things that somehow matter. Found a song I actually like somewhere in what I listen to. Too personal or too strange or something to talk about though, so I’m keeping it to myself. Some things are better as just your own thing.

The math’s still happening. The beginning of it isn’t impossible, so I guess I’ll look at the numbers until they stop being nonsense. Or I’ll get tired and stop. One of those two things.