So here goes another Calculus rant. You're probably thinking, is it thursday already? Indeed it is (may be friday by the time this is posted) but this time instead of venting/ranting, I'd like to clarify something: I do not hate maths as much as I profess. As far as I'm concerned, there's actually great beauty to be found in mathematics. The first time I was enraptured by numbers was when I was informed that between two seemingly consecutive whole numbers, such as 1 and 2, there is an infinite number of values. How mind-boggling is that? I mean, I was awed by the thought of the limitlessness of space but to think that between something as close as a couple of numbers there is an infinite number of numbers hidden just hit me so much harder. Another example: you can take any number, say "2" and continue to divide it into half for all your lifetime and still keep going. Infinity: such a beautiful concept.

Then, however, as with all subjects I enjoyed reading up on in my spare time, I had to practice it, had to learn formulae, had to pass exams in which numbers stared tauntingly back at me. Compulsion is the death of passion, I have learned, and so died my passion for maths.