A Life Less Ordinary

It’s so unusually bright. There’s no way it’s morning. The sun stands unseasonably low this year. At least it didn’t strike me in the past that the rays of sunshine had an unobstructed view through my big window shining directly on my bed. And it’s penetrating my curtains I believed to be opaque. The piercing light wakens me from my sleep but despite its warm and sunny character I would rather prefer a dark and cozy place I can curl up in a little longer. No duties await me.

I can hear the echo of my rumbling stomach, only few possessions decorate the two-room flat while dozens of papers and boxes are covering the floor. I could use a shower. Necessarily, I should get up, put on my jeans, tidy up. And shave, too.

It's amazing how I successfully brought chaos into my life for I used to be so orderly. Once reduced, the initial order can never be regained. There are laws to measure the disorder in the universe or the availability of energy in a system to do work.

As time progresses, I sit up and breathe in. An arrow of time is what they call it.

As the only quantity in the physical sciences it implies a particular direction of progress. Its qualitative notion refers to changes in the status quo. It's an extensive property which is spreading out in my premises. I must be an accommodating host if natural science is feeling comfortable at my place.


It is difficult to comprehend but nevertheless important to understand that my chaos or more precisely the entropy as an expression of disorder or randomness can neither be decreased nor reversed without involving another system. Thermodynamically speaking, my domain and everything in it has come to a state of equilibrium. And that won't change until I pull myself together and get going.

I stumble over bottles and head to the bathroom. Ten minutes, then I must leave if I want to catch the next train.


I brush my teeth unimpressively realizing that I have herpes again. Where is my antiseptic? I left it behind. Well, they say that in the morning one is at his creatively highest level. How creative can you get in an empty apartment?

Seven minutes.

I rinse out my mouth with Jack Daniels. Meanwhile, I think about modern life and how far advanced we are, sophisticated, digital. Lord, provide me an anvil and I shall be a blacksmith, this life I didn't choose. I am unable to make sense of it, it remains constantly pointless.

The heat death of the universe. Once there is no temperature gradient nothing else can happen, there is no work. Unless an external event intervenes, the room is destined to remain in the same condition for all eternity.

Five minutes.

I put on my clothes and take my bag. Unshaven and shaggy I leave my entropic home.