All these numbers in my head make sense; why can't you see them as I do?
X and Y hate each other, one has to always be better. They tear each other down, down into the darkness of the negative, a place one cannot go and asks zero to tell him the story of such a place. But zero will only tell one the story of where one is, and the place is a story of positive.
Why do people say seven ate nine? Seven is always with three and four, leading into the twenties. Eight is too busy copying twenty-four, and by extension, six. Nine is the chaotic constant, always building himself up and tearing himself down at the same time.
Why can't you see them as I do?