365 Days of Creativity
day sixty
The Number 5
We have five fingers.
Five senses.
We work five days a week and always wish we had five more minutes.
Five is half. Half of anything is point five.
Five dollar bill, five fave numbers, five points on a star.
Why? Why five? Though I suppose I could've picked any number and listed things around it. Yet I didn't, I picked five.
I don't particularly like five. It's unappealing to me, visually, and conceptually.
Five is awkward. Four is better, four is solid, four is safe. Even better is six. Six is sublime, six is sex. Five is fear.
I don't even like the hour of five. Five o'clock is gross. Wrong. Everyday I feel the need to skip it. I don't like to eat during the hour of five. I wait, until six.
5:55. The time. I feel threatened by the time as if the power of the fives combined could kill me. As if there's a risk of time standing still, and shoving me forever into the world of 5:55. Like I'd never again get to feel the release of six o'clock.
I hate five. It's painful and disturbing. Five is wrong, inadequate. It's uneven. Five is fractured, it's half of everything, never whole.
This morning, I woke up at five.
Just been creeping through your words and re-discovered this little gem. I really like this piece. I'm always looking for patterns/connections in numbers and I found all the points you have to make about the number 5 quite interesting (and some true - the hour 5 generally does feel awkward and wrong). But it's the final sentence that gets me; it left me with a bit of a sick feeling in my stomach. You know the one you get right as you realize something very wrong has happened or is about to happen? Yeah, that. Brilliant.
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