We’re obsessed with them, whether we’re speaking statistics or something as simple and crude as money, the human mind is obsessed with numbers. But within this mess of oddities, this dull repetition of enormous figures, I have found my favourites.

The number Three, rounded and simple, rolling off the tongue in all the languages I can say it in.

The number Five, which appearance-wise is close to Three, is also rounded, but there is an edge to it that makes it seem a little more rough.

The number Seven, for the many stories and myths woven around it.

The number Nine for its grandness, the curves of it making it seem like something forbidden.

And finally…

The number Twelve, a most underappreciated figure, from what I’ve seen and heard, but it holds a harshness that is hard to find in any other number, I believe.

Now, this might seem like insane rambling to you, but for me, numbers are important. They tell me not only what order things should be in, the age of an acquaintance, or what worth has been given to an object. They fascinate me in a manner I cannot and will not even try to explain. But as you sit there, muttering to yourself about how idiotic it is to look for emotions, expressions and beauty in numbers, do ask yourself if there is a figure you prefer before all others. Think of why it is that you prefer it. Has it anything to do with the mythology you learned of as a child, has it anything to do with your appreciation for monetary worth, or is it simply a number that makes you feel safe, or one you think looks particularly appealing to draw.
There are a great many ways to come up with one’s own answer, so do give it a try.

As for me, I’m going to rest my weary head before I ramble on any further.

Good night to you all.