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THIS IS US
On Entropy
The sun stays up past 5 p.m. now, symbolizing that there may, indeed, be some hope, though I don’t know from where said hope would emerge. This solstice and winter were darker for me than most. Maybe for you as well. This was perhaps due to the long and winding tunnel that was a truly bizarre holiday season and the repetition of Covid lockdown, aka Covid Part II The Isolationist’s Revenge which was like original Covid but this time somehow duller, dustier, and older. I remember I was once driving at night with an ex on a highway and their old Honda Civic died. Entropy they quietly said while we waited for the tow truck in the empty parking lot of a nondescript office park, everything is tumbling toward death and disrepair. I had never heard the word before, nor did I know, before that moment, that there was a word for the concept that I felt like summarized my world view better than anything I had ever heard. But there it was. Entropy. That is what has happened to Covid — not the disease but the experience. It has entropized into something more chaotic and closer to death. That relationship also tumbled toward death and disrepair, although both of us seem to have become much the better for it. At least I assume. I don’t talk to them and I have their name blocked on every conceivable media platform.
The march toward disrepair and the inevitability of death is a bummer unless you…
