My algebra class was just before my world history class, and I was getting antsy. Not just because algebra was a royal pain, and we were working on trigonometry and I never did well at trigonometry, which meant I was doomed when it came to pre-calc next year and I was heavily debating dropping math entirely after clawing through this class. No, it was also because next class, I would be sitting next to Gina Thomas again, and I would feel my heart attempt to escape the ivory cage of my chest for the entire fifty minute period.

Algebra. My most hated word. It is my least favorite class i’ve ever taken and causes me so much stress. My teacher is incredibly rude, giving piles of homework each day.

I taught myself algebra. I got sick with pnemonia when I was in high school and the hardest part was getting behind in algebra.

She knew that algebra was the key to unlocking the note. She quickly scanned it over before letting her friend look at it. They didn’t know what to do. Perhaps there really was a treasure.

I’m terrible at algebra. Why does it even exist in the common world above, say shop class, where you can learn to change your oil? That seems more necessary for my life than figuring out the angle to throw a ball over the house to hit something square on. Even with legit calculations, it’d be hard for me to throw it with the proper velocity. plus, there’s calculators everywhere.

I spun the pencil in my hand, staring at the algebra problems. I started re-writing number three again for the fifth time in an hour, and let out an exasperated sigh. When will I use this anyway?

Mathe. Mathe war noch nie etwas gewesen, was die junge Tiamat mochte. Jedes Mal, wenn im Unterricht das gloreiche Fach Mathemathik ausgewählt wurde, schüttelte sie mit den Kopf und seufzte laut. Vor allen, da sie aktuell bei Algebra waren. Algebra. Wer braucht so etwas schon? Sie ganz sicher nicht! Denn sie wollte die Welt bereisen!

The clock’s tick echoed in her head. Slow, too slow, her hands fiddling idly with the pencil clutched in her sweaty hands. It couldn’t have only been three minutes, no way. Raising her head, she glared uselessly at the bowed heads of her students. Algebra, she decided, was the worst subject she’d ever taught by far.

Twisting numbers, scrambling about, meaning hidden in their order. Take a number, pair it with another, divide it with its cousin. A writing displays a picture; the numbers have meaning. Meaning is found on solving. In thought. In careful arrangement. Track the steps. Remember the motions. Remember what the number means.

the girl sat in her algebra class when she realised that non eo fthis would matter. she was a dragon of course it didnt matter. she would one day find all the gold she would need to open her bank and complete her dream. also she loved gold. cause she was a dragon, you know she was a green dragon, cause green is the best colour. except when vomit

we meet in a rockslide
in my head, and it’s a wonder
we don’t come up for air
à la shred-human,

and I’m not good at
French, or making it up,
or making anything up,
because I can’t solve
my own duplicity…
because I bend with smiles
to not be seen, and I eat less
when I feel like I’m being seen,
until I’m digesting air
and the roars of empty bile;

when my face is slipping
and my friends are sinking down
like the fleeing trails of wax
to a birthday candle
(but only because they’ve
seen the truth),

I cry my mascara
into my hands and remember
how much I hate makeup.

But I split my ruby lips,
and I flip my curly hair,
and I shake the hands
of ever uncertainty until
“we’re fine we’re fine we’re fine.”

I fucking hate algebra. I hate it. It’s not math. It’s not anything. It’s just sitting in a chair, filling out a worksheet, hundreds of the same question with different numbers. And I’m tapping my feet, I’m clicking my tongue, my breath is fogging up my glasses. Fuck this. I’m gonna ask to use the washroom.

I fucking hate algebra. I hate it. It’s not math, it’s not anything, really. It’s just endless pages of the same question, over and over. And I’m sitting here, tapping my foot, clicking my tongue. Fuck this. I’m gonna ask to use the washroom.

She wished she had a way with numbers like the did words. Sure, there were sometimes letters involved–algebra was her favorite type of mathematics for a reason–but she still had trouble keeping it all those vaguely menacing quantities straight in her mind.

The last thing i want to think about is algebra. It was the subject i dreaded the most in my high school years. now looking back i wish all my problems were as easy as the ones in my algebra class. teenage years, blond hair, no work and no drivers license :)

Numbers and letters altogether
They’re everywhere
Inside my mind
Inside this book
Inside my teacher’s murderous look
And inside the paper plane that flew
From me towards you

to see your face divided by a frown
falling through space, car across town
addition through subtraction, a breakfast break up
multiplication by two always in half
the algebra of your mind never adds up
even with variables.

I never cared for mathematics much, particularly algebra. Even the name – “algebra” – suffocates my mind and tires my soul. Who needs it? Engineers, maybe.

algebra is important to me because i neewd it every day in coding. At least the principles of it such as variables and variable addition subtraction division etc. It seems like every day my lack of caring for learning math in school is coming back to bite me in the ass even though i never thought that it would.

He ran through visions, simulations in his ind, trying to manipulate mental algebra to come up with a solution to the weight which so oppressed him. It was no use. His shoulders cracked; the muscles in his neck split and burst as his head was pushed down with a force so precise as to be almost mathematical…

Well, just seeing this word causes a bit of stress within me. Math has never been my strong suit. I know it’s because I was never taught Math properly. Teachers need to learn to teach better. I need manipulatives.

I looked upon my algebra book and sighed. Why do I study this? When I grow up and be a writer, do I need to learn about this? Is this truly necessary? My thoughts were interrupted when somebody threw a ball of paper at me and then I looked around… Seeing no suspect, I just returned to reading but me being a curious little dunce, reached for the paper ball and opened it… Then I smiled at the message inside…. “Don’t look so serious, Smile for me Gorgeous”

He was never very good at the Algebra. He spent most of his time getting the homework done by the sexy teacher of his class for him. why? He had the mindfulness, charisma and brain power of a genius.

John ran to class, late as usual. It was the one class he had trouble getting to because it was on the other side of the school from the class prior to it, which was English. The teacher just thought he hated algebra and he couldn’t seem to get him to understand, using maps or not, that it wasn’t him, it was the distance! Maybe if he could figure out an algebraic formula for ‘distance’ and plug that in on the board in front of his teacher, maybe then he’d understand!

He gaped at her in confusion. He recognized some of her basics; understood the simple reasoning that started this problem. But now she was being coy, throwing out riddles, and being intentionally obtuse. He hated it.

Time consuming. Hard because it counts as a high school class and is a credit for college. It’s makes me nervous to think about because there are a lot of test and homework to complete and I really want to get an A.

There he sat, in the most hated class in the school, algebra. He wasn’t listening to the teacher, but looking outside the window, paying attention to the colorful birds outside. He didn’t notice me, though I was near the bird. He didn’t notice I was watching him as intently as he was watching the bird. And he sure as hell didn’t notice the gun in my hands.

sitting in math class sketching pictures of naked girls, listening to music. the girl next to me is yapping about something to the kid across the table. i’m listening to black flag’s “armageddon man”, the greatest song on the greatest black flag album, an album by an severely overrated band. the teacher’s looking at me, i look at him. he asks me a question but i don’t know the answer. what’s going on? i’m armageddon man

“So, if you add twice this equation to the next, you can find x. And then…” Ms. Fairbank paused to let her students answer.

“You plug x back into the first equation!” yelled Polly.

“That’s the signal!” shouted Holly next to her. “Plug x back into the first equation!” She and the fifty other students around her raised their crosses and ran forwards to plug them into the room’s power supply.
There was a loud flash.

The twisted metal and crumbling concrete were all but guaranteed to remain from what was once a functional overpass, when you think about it. One has to wonder if the engineer mastered, let alone understood, the algebra behind a load bearing bridge.

In our adult learning class we covered the subject of algebra. Algebra is one of my favorite subjects. Mostly because I really enjoy learning math. To me, algebra is like a puzzle. In algebra you have to find the values for variables.

Algebra. Why? Is my question. Why do I need to incorporate letters into a practice of numbers. Tell me why one man thought it to be necessary to mix the two. Letters are letters. They are creative and they invent and they are used for beautiful, extraordinary things. They are not to be fused into math and given number correspondents. The practice of algebra simply takes away the freedom of a letter.

My algebra class was just before my world history class, and I was getting antsy. Not just because algebra was a royal pain, and we were working on trigonometry and I never did well at trigonometry, which meant I was doomed when it came to pre-calc next year and I was heavily debating dropping math entirely after clawing through this class. No, it was also because next class, I would be sitting next to Gina Thomas again, and I would feel my heart attempt to escape the ivory cage of my chest for the entire fifty minute period.

By

Belinda RoddieURL on 07.15.2015Algebra. My most hated word. It is my least favorite class i’ve ever taken and causes me so much stress. My teacher is incredibly rude, giving piles of homework each day.

By

Rebeccaon 07.15.2015I taught myself algebra. I got sick with pnemonia when I was in high school and the hardest part was getting behind in algebra.

She knew that algebra was the key to unlocking the note. She quickly scanned it over before letting her friend look at it. They didn’t know what to do. Perhaps there really was a treasure.

By

Crystalon 07.15.2015I’m terrible at algebra. Why does it even exist in the common world above, say shop class, where you can learn to change your oil? That seems more necessary for my life than figuring out the angle to throw a ball over the house to hit something square on. Even with legit calculations, it’d be hard for me to throw it with the proper velocity. plus, there’s calculators everywhere.

By

blahblahchoiURL on 07.15.2015I spun the pencil in my hand, staring at the algebra problems. I started re-writing number three again for the fifth time in an hour, and let out an exasperated sigh. When will I use this anyway?

By

magicianon 07.15.2015Mathe. Mathe war noch nie etwas gewesen, was die junge Tiamat mochte. Jedes Mal, wenn im Unterricht das gloreiche Fach Mathemathik ausgewählt wurde, schüttelte sie mit den Kopf und seufzte laut. Vor allen, da sie aktuell bei Algebra waren. Algebra. Wer braucht so etwas schon? Sie ganz sicher nicht! Denn sie wollte die Welt bereisen!

By

laurantURL on 07.15.2015The clock’s tick echoed in her head. Slow, too slow, her hands fiddling idly with the pencil clutched in her sweaty hands. It couldn’t have only been three minutes, no way. Raising her head, she glared uselessly at the bowed heads of her students. Algebra, she decided, was the worst subject she’d ever taught by far.

By

Tara Pon 07.15.2015Algebra flying across the room

Numbers hit the wall

Variables drip to the floor like venom

Luscious math everywhere

But where I want it

By

Kumquaton 07.15.2015x and y do not

come naturally to me –

it is far too easy to let my

mind wander

across the board, air

heavy with chalk and equations

outside, the air is light and blue

here the room is far too tight

with letters.

By

Mary Bethon 07.15.2015Twisting numbers, scrambling about, meaning hidden in their order. Take a number, pair it with another, divide it with its cousin. A writing displays a picture; the numbers have meaning. Meaning is found on solving. In thought. In careful arrangement. Track the steps. Remember the motions. Remember what the number means.

By

Noaon 07.15.2015the girl sat in her algebra class when she realised that non eo fthis would matter. she was a dragon of course it didnt matter. she would one day find all the gold she would need to open her bank and complete her dream. also she loved gold. cause she was a dragon, you know she was a green dragon, cause green is the best colour. except when vomit

By

floURL on 07.15.2015we meet in a rockslide

in my head, and it’s a wonder

we don’t come up for air

à la shred-human,

and I’m not good at

French, or making it up,

or making anything up,

because I can’t solve

my own duplicity…

because I bend with smiles

to not be seen, and I eat less

when I feel like I’m being seen,

until I’m digesting air

and the roars of empty bile;

when my face is slipping

and my friends are sinking down

like the fleeing trails of wax

to a birthday candle

(but only because they’ve

seen the truth),

I cry my mascara

into my hands and remember

how much I hate makeup.

But I split my ruby lips,

and I flip my curly hair,

and I shake the hands

of ever uncertainty until

“we’re fine we’re fine we’re fine.”

Just don’t blow too hard.

By

Pandatryon 07.15.2015I fucking hate algebra. I hate it. It’s not math. It’s not anything. It’s just sitting in a chair, filling out a worksheet, hundreds of the same question with different numbers. And I’m tapping my feet, I’m clicking my tongue, my breath is fogging up my glasses. Fuck this. I’m gonna ask to use the washroom.

By

Isabelleon 07.15.2015I fucking hate algebra. I hate it. It’s not math, it’s not anything, really. It’s just endless pages of the same question, over and over. And I’m sitting here, tapping my foot, clicking my tongue. Fuck this. I’m gonna ask to use the washroom.

By

Isabelleon 07.15.2015She wished she had a way with numbers like the did words. Sure, there were sometimes letters involved–algebra was her favorite type of mathematics for a reason–but she still had trouble keeping it all those vaguely menacing quantities straight in her mind.

By

WearyWaterURL on 07.15.2015The last thing i want to think about is algebra. It was the subject i dreaded the most in my high school years. now looking back i wish all my problems were as easy as the ones in my algebra class. teenage years, blond hair, no work and no drivers license :)

By

Pei Peion 07.15.2015Numbers and letters altogether

They’re everywhere

Inside my mind

Inside this book

Inside my teacher’s murderous look

And inside the paper plane that flew

From me towards you

By

Riion 07.15.2015lets add up all our joys

subtract our anger

multiply our love

and divide the blessing of God.

By

Light Blue Fox 333on 07.16.2015to see your face divided by a frown

falling through space, car across town

addition through subtraction, a breakfast break up

multiplication by two always in half

the algebra of your mind never adds up

even with variables.

By

matton 07.16.2015I never cared for mathematics much, particularly algebra. Even the name – “algebra” – suffocates my mind and tires my soul. Who needs it? Engineers, maybe.

By

TerranceRAHon 07.16.2015x’s and why’s

why are we learning this

By

unclemumURL on 07.16.2015algebra is important to me because i neewd it every day in coding. At least the principles of it such as variables and variable addition subtraction division etc. It seems like every day my lack of caring for learning math in school is coming back to bite me in the ass even though i never thought that it would.

By

PatrickURL on 07.16.2015He ran through visions, simulations in his ind, trying to manipulate mental algebra to come up with a solution to the weight which so oppressed him. It was no use. His shoulders cracked; the muscles in his neck split and burst as his head was pushed down with a force so precise as to be almost mathematical…

By

John Doeon 07.16.2015The teacher was a large woman, yards of fabric and size 11 shoes–black heavy clogs.

By

Johnnyon 07.16.2015Well, just seeing this word causes a bit of stress within me. Math has never been my strong suit. I know it’s because I was never taught Math properly. Teachers need to learn to teach better. I need manipulatives.

By

Mistress Quicklyon 07.16.2015I looked upon my algebra book and sighed. Why do I study this? When I grow up and be a writer, do I need to learn about this? Is this truly necessary? My thoughts were interrupted when somebody threw a ball of paper at me and then I looked around… Seeing no suspect, I just returned to reading but me being a curious little dunce, reached for the paper ball and opened it… Then I smiled at the message inside…. “Don’t look so serious, Smile for me Gorgeous”

By

Alyssa Lopezon 07.16.2015He was never very good at the Algebra. He spent most of his time getting the homework done by the sexy teacher of his class for him. why? He had the mindfulness, charisma and brain power of a genius.

By

trkstr67on 07.16.2015John ran to class, late as usual. It was the one class he had trouble getting to because it was on the other side of the school from the class prior to it, which was English. The teacher just thought he hated algebra and he couldn’t seem to get him to understand, using maps or not, that it wasn’t him, it was the distance! Maybe if he could figure out an algebraic formula for ‘distance’ and plug that in on the board in front of his teacher, maybe then he’d understand!

By

Platinuon 07.16.2015He gaped at her in confusion. He recognized some of her basics; understood the simple reasoning that started this problem. But now she was being coy, throwing out riddles, and being intentionally obtuse. He hated it.

By

SoftURL on 07.16.2015Time consuming. Hard because it counts as a high school class and is a credit for college. It’s makes me nervous to think about because there are a lot of test and homework to complete and I really want to get an A.

By

Josieon 07.16.2015There he sat, in the most hated class in the school, algebra. He wasn’t listening to the teacher, but looking outside the window, paying attention to the colorful birds outside. He didn’t notice me, though I was near the bird. He didn’t notice I was watching him as intently as he was watching the bird. And he sure as hell didn’t notice the gun in my hands.

By

Isabellaon 07.16.2015sitting in math class sketching pictures of naked girls, listening to music. the girl next to me is yapping about something to the kid across the table. i’m listening to black flag’s “armageddon man”, the greatest song on the greatest black flag album, an album by an severely overrated band. the teacher’s looking at me, i look at him. he asks me a question but i don’t know the answer. what’s going on? i’m armageddon man

By

Brigitte Fitzgeraldon 07.16.2015“So, if you add twice this equation to the next, you can find x. And then…” Ms. Fairbank paused to let her students answer.

“You plug x back into the first equation!” yelled Polly.

“That’s the signal!” shouted Holly next to her. “Plug x back into the first equation!” She and the fifty other students around her raised their crosses and ran forwards to plug them into the room’s power supply.

There was a loud flash.

By

betaveroson 07.16.2015The simple algebra equation that equals the 3 words a person wants to hear the most.

9x – 7i > 3(3x-7u) = i < 3u

By

abigail raeon 07.16.2015Im doing algebra and im bored blah blah blah.

By

Davidon 07.16.2015the science of why

we can’t help

who we love

the perfect symmetry

of he

and me

golden rectangles

broken but

balanced

By

katiekieranURL on 07.16.2015The twisted metal and crumbling concrete were all but guaranteed to remain from what was once a functional overpass, when you think about it. One has to wonder if the engineer mastered, let alone understood, the algebra behind a load bearing bridge.

By

asavason 07.16.2015Sitting my desk and wanting to go asleep, not paying any attention. I don’t understand any of it????

By

Gracklebeanon 07.16.2015In our adult learning class we covered the subject of algebra. Algebra is one of my favorite subjects. Mostly because I really enjoy learning math. To me, algebra is like a puzzle. In algebra you have to find the values for variables.

By

Ralph Fisheron 07.16.2015Algebra. Why? Is my question. Why do I need to incorporate letters into a practice of numbers. Tell me why one man thought it to be necessary to mix the two. Letters are letters. They are creative and they invent and they are used for beautiful, extraordinary things. They are not to be fused into math and given number correspondents. The practice of algebra simply takes away the freedom of a letter.

By

eclipseon 07.16.2015