In Memoriam N.D.M.

As my physics GSI related nearly an hour ago, "Yes, we know that the universe favors entropy, but why does it favor it? Why does the puddle remain water and not simply change into ice?" The conclusion reached was that we didn't know the answer. Or rather we didn't know how to explain it, which is, in itself, more important than the prior.  Thinking about why the universe favors disorder led me to evaluate my own life and the disorder within it.  Why does my life lean towards disorder, or more importantly why do I try to find structure when nature tells me to do the opposite?

A similar paradox arises from the question of the puddle.  Why does the water continue to exist in the liquid form?  We know that by forming bonds and inducing a phase change from liquid water to solid ice we lower the amount of energy required to sustain the matter.  This should intuitively lead us to believe that ice will always form, yet it does not.  This thing we call entropy permeates the universe, trying to create disorder in every which way possible.  Now why this "entropy" exists I don't know.  Some would argue religion, some science, some a mix of the two.  For me the question is not of importance at this moment. What is applicable is finding out what makes my life entropically favored.  My tale as a 19-year-old.  My college experience at one of the most prestigious Universities in the world.  My life.

Is it the fact that I have two problem sets due on Friday that remain untouched?  Is it my twenty-six hours of class I have a week?  Is it my inability to find time to read the book I am currently enraptured in?  Is it my regret that I don't have thirty-six hours in a day?  Is it my discontent at the currently empty mug on my desk that only five minutes ago was filled with tea?  Is it the lack of time I've been left alone to reflect on my thoughts?  Is it my numerous responsibilities that have piled up day after day drowning me in a never-ending workload?  I can tell you it isn't my roommates that have been nothing but made of pure, unadulterated awesome.

Is it the smell of weed currently wafting up to my room, which I dislike?  Is it the lack of any sort of meat in my fridge?  Is it my confusion on whether or not Alfred Tennyson was right when he wrote that ''Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all'?  Is it the lack of rigorous, by any definition, exercise that has plagued me for the last couple weeks?  Is it my anger at people who disagree with me on matters I simply will not sway on?  I can tell you it isn't the one person I've found that can make me take a step back and remind me that everyone has different viewpoints and that's okay.

I can go on all day about things that contribute to making my life unpleasant. It's a little harder to quantify what makes me happy though. I know that the repetitive procedure of making my coffee morning after morning gives me great joy.  Why this gives me pleasure, I don't know. But as I said before, quantifying something that makes me happy is a challenging feat.  A feat I am not inclined to take on now in this blog post, or perhaps for a very long time. All I know is that I want to continue doing whatever makes me happy.  And writing in this blog post makes me happy.  Very happy indeed.

Hope everyone's weeks are going well.  I'll post on Tuesday next time, but I thought you might overlook my disobedience this once in the hopes that me actually posting something makes up for it.

Jason