I lay down in bed and stared. At the wall that lay in front of my eyes which used to be yellow once, but now had turned a burnt brown for my very existence had caused it to decay. The number of times I had rested my feet on it, thrown dirty clothes and it. Allowed a 22 day old,sweaty, jogging shirt to remain pressed against it for hours, one that would have made even the dirtiest of rooms to acquire a new texture to put off the olfactory senses.

There I lay wondering. If entropy is indeed the master of all, and if that is so. What is it that we as human beings are trying to achieve by bringing order into this Earth? Leaving all practicalities aside, let us delve into  the aesthetic nature of order. Does man as a species. Seek to justify his own twisted sense of beauty by creating a logical flow to things? For if perfection is to be achieved, is it not a pointless pursuit for time will destroy it eventually???

But yet I did drag myself out of bed.  And slowly start putting the books back in order. After a torturous set of exams, the very books who's every word seemed to admonish the death of you were but a flaked memory. Of a night spent in desperation and the mornings - a sense of dreaded doom, waiting for the hammer to strike down on the anvil, with you stuck in between. So, for what reason did I have to pick up those very books and place them back on the shelf. I asked myself. And the reason was perfection, order and symmetry.

Man maybe a mortal entity, who's individual stream of consciousness (at least on a 3-Dimensional plane) is a chaotic mess of interconnected thoughts with chronic fluctuations as fleeting as the ticking of the seconds hand. Like the one a wall clock. But still we want a sense a order and purpose. Comforting us of our control over the very environment whose very nature is. To demean our false sense of impermanency. Yet, we fight against it, hoping to somehow, only if temporarily to satisfy our sense of symmetry. But in our quest to achieve balance and go against the forces of chaos that strives to pull everything. We fail to understand that our efforts to put the universe back in order, to create symmetry and uphold our sense of beauty is but aiding in its ultimate destruction. As the saying goes "The bigger they are, the harder they fall" so too is all our efforts, doomed inevitably but because of our actions  only a bigger, stronger and more stupendous..  horrific doom.... remember nuclear weapons? Don't they all have to decay or go boom EVENTUALLY???

But to strive for perfection is our very nature, for through those perfect moments is where our divinity shine through. It is through those few 'Perfections'(if I may use the word) That we are we able to touch a higher plane, a better plane where God is one step nearer and all that the world has to offer is but a faded blur. Like my humble room, that had then become quite clean really, and looking at it proudly lifted my spirits up. An elation that made me immortal to myself for a few seconds, but which was a lifetime for an electron trapped in its hydrogenic cell, spinning in the sun...

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