One of the things about the universe is that everything, and I do mean everything, is always trying to reach its lowest possible energy state.
That's why uncomfortable atoms give off photons and we get light. That's why a drawing pin can't easily balance pointy-end down, and it's why time ticks, the galaxy spins, and tea never flows backwards from the cup to the teapot.
Yesterday, I said I was having a low-energy week. That is true. You can't create or destroy energy, but you can transfer it from system to system. You can redistribute it, and any system in a high-energy state attempts to do that, as I was saying: tea, planets, atoms, photons, drawing pins - all searching for that ground-state equilibrium.
Me too. Energy is stressful. And today my hay fever, birthed from the grass transferring its energy to the atmopshere, is SO bad, I'm close to having to go home sick.
Whoever heard of such a thing? Yet here I am, emotions all over the shop, stuffed-up, drugged-up, and miserable. I'm eating an egg-and-cress sandwich but it might as well be made of paper and cardboard.
"How are you feeling, Matt?" asked Erica.
"Like decabitation bight be the only obtion," I sniffled back.
On top of the miserable allergy I hate so much, I'm also spiralling into blackness again. I'm not sure I can function with these monstrous thoughts. Yet I don't really want to beef up the medication either, which will be the first thing my doctor recommends.
I know that because last time, he dispassionately told me that his job is to prescribe drugs. I was in no position to argue that I didn't think that was his job at all; I am nowhere near clever enough to have been a doctor, and it wasn't my place to judge, anymore than a doctor could interrupt my day with a lecture on how to use the Oxford comma.
Anyway, like the rest of the universe, I'm currently distributing most of my energy and collapsing into the lowest-state possible with nothing to catch me.
I think they call that 'falling' don't they.
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