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"proton" poems
I’ve discovered the secret to life! But, it may not be the most likable knowledge, And, it definitely does not fall under “small-talk-poetry,” Yet, it is known that everything-worth-knowing was once considered hideous. What am I? I’m human, like you. Like you, I’m human, What are we? We are cells, Cells made up of molecules, Molecules made up of atoms, Atoms made up of protons and neutrons and electrons. Electrons… The lightest charged particles, Electrons… Who weigh 1836 times less than a proton, Electrons Found a way to rebel. Electrons Repel the nucleic core. Electrons Push boundaries. Electrons Create space. An atom is mostly empty space. All of me is composed of atoms, All of you is composed of atoms, We are mostly empty space. We are just reflections Of this Universe Staring back at each other.
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Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC
By the Transitive Property
Is loving someone with every fiber, molecule, atom, proton, and quark of your fragile existence, With the prospect of still not being enough.
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Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 2:47 PM UTC
Fear
I am attracted to you Like an electron to a proton Together we form an ionic bond Though we are opposite charged ions I am drawn towards you Our love is unique as an orbital For only two electrons can fill this space As my love for you increases My energy level rises I am in this excited state Increasing the tendency to form a chemical bond I was an element It took you to make me a compound substance Falling in love with you is a chemical reaction Which cause my love for you to grow Ours is an exothermic love Each for giving off love not just absorbing it Sometimes you do something especially nice Which speeds up the chemical process Like a catalyst in my increasing love for you I realise we have our inhibition periods And sometimes I am selfish enough To be an endothermic reaction Only absorbing your love The feeling I have for you is so intense It cannot be measured in kilojoules Often I have to make a qualitative elementary analysis To understand and love you more But I don't expect to know your empirical formula You are too complex a person for that When you are gone I am a noble gas An inert substance When I am without you The world seems still And I am at equilibrium
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Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 1:51 AM UTC
INLOVE SCIENTIST
If charged particles are not guilty of existence, why would anyone be? Man who holds book or man who holds gun, the choice is neither obvious or attenuated. Reactionary causes rash tactlessness. Still, proof must be exposed. Who will avenge a payback unpunished? How to take satisfaction in evening the score, when so many more will fall before any justice will cure the lure to revenge? It depends, on how charged particles defend, or how you decipher foe from friend. Call upon prudence, or we shall see no end. Precaution is canniness in your own circumspection. Please use forethought for neither the neutron or proton are happy with these electrons.
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Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 10:30 AM UTC
Imprudent Protons, Electrons, and Neutrons
Shutter bugs flashing lights.... Super moon on electro magnetic track, Ferrari-Proton .. Porsche Neutron all Boson-cars firing in row........ Racing on Gleam-1 , she is seating next to me The event of Light years --> F1 on Q- Track In a heavy-ion collisions, the quark-gluon plasma , and quantum chromodynamics, the moment of big bang A union of super naturals, Human & Aliens flagging the planets , The race begun...heading towards Planet Love ......fearless .. Nothing  can stop  us..... A Cosmic Game of Passion ........
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Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 8:10 PM UTC
"Formula-1 on Quantum Track ...."
There was a universe. In this universe...was a galaxy In this galaxy...was a planet On this planet...was a man In this man...was a heart In this heart...was a cell In this cell...was a nucleus In this nucleus...was a proton In this proton...was a quark In this quark...was a gluon In this gluon...was.... Where was I going with this? Umm.... You're awesome.
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Jan 23, 2012
Jan 23, 2012 at 11:35 PM UTC
Back to Basics
Reaching Inside to Center Mind and further still past Grey Matter past axon and dendrite through the synapse Once more unto the breach and further still into cell into nucleus into gene into acid amino and further still into particle carbon past electron past proton into neutron and further still to Reach The Void and reside within and wait, still Being within Nothing as the World Serpent tail-in-mouth consumes itself Wait and Hold Still Wait and Hold Still Now gently Returning Up and Out tugging softly at The Void with wish whisper touch softer than Light pulling bringing Nothing Up and Out into Everything into Center Mind Up and Out leaving neutron past proton and electron leaving carbon Up and Out pulling No-thing Up and Out leaving gene, leaving nucleus, leaving cell Up and Out bringing The Void Up and Out through synapse past dendrite and axon through Matters Grey Up and Out and Into Center of Mind the Hole in Your Self the Whole within the Holy You Now Wait and Hold Still
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Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
Meditation #1
You're my proton to my nucleus, I'm your electron in your hydrogen molecule. Orbiting around you in the hope to catch your eyes.
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Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 3:33 AM UTC
Proton
Purity it portrays it imitates But at the same time it clouds its own image "Clean" it says "Kind" it says "Holy" it says Then tell me why it attracts electrons who all have the same sinful lust for it? Maybe those neutron dead and lifeless and Heavy can they tell the whole story
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Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 11:57 AM UTC
The Purity of a Proton
for every copper piece of me, you are gold. for every rough stitch pulling me together, you have been a flawless seam. you are every proton and every color of a chemical reaction, and i am just the steps in between. you are a catalyst, the start of something, a star to wish on as it streaks across the sky. for every dark, you are my light. you are the match setting fire to my veins made of gasoline, your body moves like those flames, flickering, and your coffee shop smile keeps me warm when the rest of my atoms are nothing but cold. you are a catalyst, and i am going to be here for the beginning of everything.
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Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 7:05 PM UTC
catalyst
Amputated human beings, only gears, nuts and bolts that make up the machine. Oh woe, who are we post industrialization but the first positive proton to survive its opposite, the first fiery bursts of fusion to breathe light into blackness. The first hydrogen atom to find its partner, the first galaxies to swirl and dance to gravity’s tune. We are the Earth’s first rain, mud puddle and microbe. The first furry mammal and the last dinosaur. We are the last breath of humanity, the Sun’s last ray of visible light, the first collision of galaxies and the last supernova. We are the last breath of the universe the silent second before heat death. We— not humanity, not Americans, or any nationality, not **** sapiens but we, the consciousness that exists to say the universe knows itself— are the widest rings in a ripple, riding waves set into motion over 13 billion years ago.
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Mar 27, 2011
Mar 27, 2011 at 8:44 PM UTC
You’re only part of a machine
I am a drop. No, smaller than that, I am half a drop. Nah, even smaller, I am a molecule. Not yet, zoom out a bit more. I am an atom, right? How ‘bout a nucleus? Proton is a better option. Or perhaps something, Smaller than a proton, Or any subatomic particle? What’s the smallest? Is the smallest really the smallest? May be fifty years, Or hundred years from now, or more Would there be a new smallest, I think that would be me. The ‘me’ in front of the all pervading sky The all pervading hostility of this universe, Or perhaps of a multiverse. Far would be destroyed my glory, By even a minute of such an imagination, My blown up ego would be blown up. Gone is my glory, blown up is my blown up ego, humbled am I. Neither a king, Nor even a slave, who am I? how would I know? when would I know? when could I perceive, without ‘me’ at the centre? without ‘me’ seeing ‘me’? perhaps never, perhaps sometime! Am I a ‘who’? Or am I a ‘what’? How does it even matter In front of all the existence? But What if I am the biggest? Bigger than the mountain Bigger than the sun Bigger than this galaxy Or even the universe? What if I am the universe or the multiverse, and kept from knowing it? Ah! what a mystery! Humbled am I In front of the great mystery Of not ‘that’ or ‘this’ But of ‘I’. So never ask me this; Who are you? For I shall go silent and never get back to you. Or shall I ever get back to you, what a celebration would that be? The greatest celebration of my life, The greatest celebration of my being. But What if I don’t even exist? Or I am just this & nothing else? May be I am a chaos, that seems to be ordered. May be I am an order, that seems to be a chaos. May be I am both. Or may be none. When would I know the truth? Or may be I know the truth, Just pretending not to know it. May be I am the truth, seeking out my own self. Or a lie, pretending to be the truth. May be I am all that I thought, May be I am none. May be all I just need, is to take a nap, and get back to work.
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Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC
May be
I am a drop. No, smaller than that, I am half a drop. Nah, even smaller, I am a molecule. Not yet, zoom out a bit more. I am an atom, right? How ‘bout a nucleus? Proton is a better option. Or perhaps something, Smaller than a proton, Or any subatomic particle? What’s the smallest? Is the smallest really the smallest? May be fifty years, Or hundred years from now, or more Would there be a new smallest, I think that would be me. The ‘me’ in front of the all pervading sky The all pervading hostility of this universe, Or perhaps of a multiverse. Far would be destroyed my glory, By even a minute of such an imagination, My blown up ego would be blown up. Gone is my glory, blown up is my blown up ego, humbled am I. Neither a king, Nor even a slave, who am I? how would I know? when would I know? when could I perceive, without ‘me’ at the centre? without ‘me’ seeing ‘me’? perhaps never, perhaps sometime! Am I a ‘who’? Or am I a ‘what’? How does it even matter In front of all the existence? But What if I am the biggest? Bigger than the mountain Bigger than the sun Bigger than this galaxy Or even the universe? What if I am the universe or the multiverse, and kept from knowing it? Ah! what a mystery! Humbled am I In front of the great mystery Of not ‘that’ or ‘this’ But of ‘I’. So never ask me this; Who are you? For I shall go silent and never get back to you. Or shall I ever get back to you, what a celebration would that be? The greatest celebration of my life, The greatest celebration of my being. But What if I don’t even exist? Or I am just this & nothing else? May be I am a chaos, that seems to be ordered. May be I am an order, that seems to be a chaos. May be I am both. Or may be none. When would I know the truth? Or may be I know the truth, Just pretending not to know it. May be I am the truth, seeking out my own self. Or a lie, pretending to be the truth. May be I am all that I thought, May be I am none. May be all I just need, is to take a nap, and get back to work.
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83
When I see you, my heart fly high On gossamer wings through a cloudless sky! Dont ignore and escape from my sight Every cell of my heart is waiting to hold you tight! Loving me is like drinking a cool cuppa I'm sure, you'll be loved back like Newtons third law! Can an atom be neutral without proton!?? Baby, be my proton and let my life neutral!! Girl, you're awesome you got me singing those veres Come into my galaxy my love is like univers!! ----de3pak
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 6:27 AM UTC
Be with me!
my heart is a gasoline guzzler running on the fumes of burned out memories, thoughts, and breaths. my veins play jump rope with my bursting capillaries and beneath the seam of every heartbeat is an arrhythmia that smiles back. no longer is every intake an oxygen a dutiful task. rather i, as a sovereign animal convert the anguish into carbon dioxide because i don't care for the proton pumps or the electron chains. i am negatively charged and hidden inside this bubble is a dark cycle beseeching for the spotlight.
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May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC
ham sandwich.
Crushing the air from my lungs, exhaling in a gasp If it's nothing more than the dance of neurotransmitters across synapses Nerves transmitting impulses Proton gradients forming and dissipating Why do I feel it so vividly
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Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 10:55 AM UTC
Panic
You're my quark who stride back and forth to expect some gains from the proton of progress and, neutron of ignorance. Then when you progress towards a great deal of ignorance, you slowly gather yourself up, to create a minute a hadron of deep insight, powered by a glory of gluon!
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Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 9:49 AM UTC
Amalgam of Physics and Poetry
I can feel it. Ticking, Counting down the seconds, Minutes, hours, Days, weeks, Years, decades Of the minor insignificant preamble to death that is my life. I am responsible for this bomb. I built the entire thing myself. I let them fool me. I let them play with my mind, As if it were a ball being carelessly kicked and tossed Through a field of lies and victimization. I am the victim of my own bomb. The only one strapped to it. Trying day after day to escape its fatal clutch, Yet clinging to it with dear life. I need the bomb. It gives me hope. Hope that this will all be over. Hope that none of this really matters, That life is nothing but a preparation for death. I hate the bomb. It creates fear in me. Fear that I am but a minor proton in the body of the world. Fear that I am the target of all of humanity’s evil. It makes me forget why I am here, Why I keep going on every day. I forget about my bomb squad. I forget about all the things diffusing my bomb. I forget to seize the day And decrease the weight of other people’s bombs.
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Jul 8, 2011
Jul 8, 2011 at 12:25 PM UTC
The Bomb
Like an electron I spin around you in every direction Like a proton you drag me towards you in elliptical fashion Like an electron I can cross the world in a blink of an eye I'd be free like a bird without you nearby But lost and orbitless Forlorn and worthless You are the source of all I seek My existence is limited to your proximity I see infinity in your raging light yet ALL you see is my negativity ... Your love is my specific energy Thunderstruck me Shifted me to a higher level Into resonance Your hand in mine in synergy Perfectionised me Turning every flaw into a marvel Into excellence As i watch the time pass as you slowly lose your positivity I'll abuse myself to earn some mass or try to reach some kind of neutrality 'cause I see divinity in your loving heart but all you CAN see is my negativity .. Yet I will keep rotating willingly Until you free me from my stupidity ~Epic Monkey
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 1:15 PM UTC
Like an electron
after the cigarettes and dry wit; the gin beams a proton of ominous raptures. the serene hells swelter. the pelt of a gnat for winter. and you get no warning. You'd think we think we have the Isis in the Bast, but she slips the fresh net like a ravishing dream. or the one you forget.
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Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
Cantilever For A Ghost
read this aloud, mind the punctuation, and, finally, enjoy. amethyst eyes alight with nighttime lightning, clapping lashes spark ruminations rumbling across the savannah of memory imprinting in me the afterimage of Now.   Now, Now makes me hers -- though i’m more willing a captive than she imagines: imprisoned in the present, tasting the electricity resounding in this soundless cell () deafeningly solid -- she grooves before me. slowly rolls me me rolls slowly   molasses boiling tongues twisting towards me ba-da doom ba-doom doom doom. i don’t know if it’s the fireflies caught in midnight-amber jars suspended by strands of suicidal curls tumbling down the pitch of your back, or your touch, come tentatively, but nonetheless titillating, for it softly pleas me to get grounded, stay a while in the timbre of warm fireside conversation and cocoa, or your teacup of a navel compelling i to lift laughter, fish up reminiscences, and transcend time, or when you lean close and lick me with your eyelash, as if a butterfly’s kiss, or your soft voice smoothly singing songs of four-lettered blues .   .     . .     .   . my god you’re gorgeous. dance with me, Now     for two more turns of the moon let’s defy posterity and traverse the curves of each other’s words and purge our selves of self     let’s anesthetize Now, marinate in the moment, savor the silence and become sap-trapped fossils left for the future     let’s live a lifetime together in two more turns of the moon, Now,     so that I may memorize every quark of every electron of every neutron of every proton of every atom of every ion of every molecule of every cell of every sinew of every tissue of every ***** and every system of all your beauty, Now, you are perfect because you are am is and will never be anywhere else but here and nothing else but Now. feel me?    feel her?       feel here? Now.
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Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 12:06 PM UTC
Now
read this aloud, mind the punctuation, and, finally, enjoy. amethyst eyes alight with nighttime lightning, clapping lashes spark ruminations rumbling across the savannah of memory imprinting in me the afterimage of Now.   Now, Now makes me hers -- though i’m more willing a captive than she imagines: imprisoned in the present, tasting the electricity resounding in this soundless cell () deafeningly solid -- she grooves before me. slowly rolls me me rolls slowly   molasses boiling tongues twisting towards me ba-da doom ba-doom doom doom. i don’t know if it’s the fireflies caught in midnight-amber jars suspended by strands of suicidal curls tumbling down the pitch of your back, or your touch, come tentatively, but nonetheless titillating, for it softly pleas me to get grounded, stay a while in the timbre of warm fireside conversation and cocoa, or your teacup of a navel compelling i to lift laughter, fish up reminiscences, and transcend time, or when you lean close and lick me with your eyelash, as if a butterfly’s kiss, or your soft voice smoothly singing songs of four-lettered blues .   .     . .     .   . my god you’re gorgeous. dance with me, Now     for two more turns of the moon let’s defy posterity and traverse the curves of each other’s words and purge our selves of self     let’s anesthetize Now, marinate in the moment, savor the silence and become sap-trapped fossils left for the future     let’s live a lifetime together in two more turns of the moon, Now,     so that I may memorize every quark of every electron of every neutron of every proton of every atom of every ion of every molecule of every cell of every sinew of every tissue of every ***** and every system of all your beauty, Now, you are perfect because you are am is and will never be anywhere else but here and nothing else but Now. feel me?    feel her?       feel here? Now.
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24
Look to the sky, Feel the Night's presence. Night's embrace, The arms of Darkness hold you. The Night envelops you, It is hungry, The Night devours you. Lost in it. As you are consumed, You consume. As the night devours you, You devour. Consumed becomes consumer, Devouring yourself, one with yourself. The Night and you are one. Standing in the Void of Space, Alone, But not alone. You are Night, You are God Herself, Nuit, full of stars. Complete in yourself, Unneeding, Eternally satisfied. The Mirror before you, Yourself, looking at yourself, In the Dark Mirror, The curve of space. Complete and alone, Not alone. Other. Self. You step towards. She steps towards. Night sees Night, Embrace, Passion. She is you. You are Night. She is Night. One. Love, ecstasy. Coupling, self with self. *** ****** Power. Consumed. Lost. Worlds spin away, Creation begins. Light out of Darkness. Let there be light. Shaking from passion. Vibrations between atoms. Night, proton. Electron and neutron, Twins, Divine Twins. Big Bang, Big ****** Stars, the substance of stars. Every man and woman is a star. When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.
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May 15, 2011
May 15, 2011 at 2:58 AM UTC
The Night Devours You
Gentle wind Blowing Ashes Me Dust Carbon Atoms Be Of earth Sun Moon Sea Proton Neutron Quark Free
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Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 3:37 PM UTC
Metamorphosis
Frozen, Close to absolute zero In a state of near preservation Do our atoms collide Breaching the comatose exclusivity Of each electron as it slowly orbits the nucleus. In this way we can simplify the quantum To a near exact state of uncertainty Which Heisenberg predicted Even as cold as our atoms have become Their exact speed Or their exact location Continues to remain a mystery As neither can be known plural Only singular to the extent That the realm of the smallest of particles Is dependent on the temperature Within the heart of a proton
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Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
Quantum Mechanics
We look past meaning, still blinded and dreaming of riches, Which leads us toward track homes and condos, cruel chapels While the hapless live in the world’s mansion: the most open convent And what we don’t see is sometimes the crux of our content The streets offer a morose array of the discarded They, the wise and most wretched, who humbly suffer Are perhaps the truest, comely Christian-hearted men and women They bless the day as they pray to the ground Where cracks become twisted crucifixes upon which The most selfless are displayed for public derision. Ironic is the formula written with precision on the tome of our existence Iconic moments of pain bloom into the banks that loan out inspiration Each electron is one thousand eight hundred thirty-sixth of its proton And this proportion, though grandly and numbingly unimpressive Is the basis upon which we live and whir and spin as matter does Coincidence is a lie in the face of the certainties within what we cannot see For, though one decade separated the births of Crockett and Bowie And, though their names might conjure knives larger than pockets And hats, stolen from conquered bandit-faced creatures’ tail ends It was on the same 1836 day that they evolved from flesh into legend. Joy is a strange element that seems to come and go without a plot Yet some know how to wield their emotions with little thought As if joy and love were as a hammer worn neatly at the belt So, I yearn for one day to grasp a handle in a hand that has never felt The shape of certainties, once discerned as chance and circumstance And when the hammer falls, I hope it breaks a twisted crack into my heart I hope to, from my reflections, thus bereft, Find some perfection hidden deep in death As one might decipher, through foreign language, A light that warms within a sonnet In a way, I think my life depends upon it.
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Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 4:35 PM UTC
The Hammer
We look past meaning, still blinded and dreaming of riches, Which leads us toward track homes and condos, cruel chapels While the hapless live in the world’s mansion: the most open convent And what we don’t see is sometimes the crux of our content The streets offer a morose array of the discarded They, the wise and most wretched, who humbly suffer Are perhaps the truest, comely Christian-hearted men and women They bless the day as they pray to the ground Where cracks become twisted crucifixes upon which The most selfless are displayed for public derision. Ironic is the formula written with precision on the tome of our existence Iconic moments of pain bloom into the banks that loan out inspiration Each electron is one thousand eight hundred thirty-sixth of its proton And this proportion, though grandly and numbingly unimpressive Is the basis upon which we live and whir and spin as matter does Coincidence is a lie in the face of the certainties within what we cannot see For, though one decade separated the births of Crockett and Bowie And, though their names might conjure knives larger than pockets And hats, stolen from conquered bandit-faced creatures’ tail ends It was on the same 1836 day that they evolved from flesh into legend. Joy is a strange element that seems to come and go without a plot Yet some know how to wield their emotions with little thought As if joy and love were as a hammer worn neatly at the belt So, I yearn for one day to grasp a handle in a hand that has never felt The shape of certainties, once discerned as chance and circumstance And when the hammer falls, I hope it breaks a twisted crack into my heart I hope to, from my reflections, thus bereft, Find some perfection hidden deep in death As one might decipher, through foreign language, A light that warms within a sonnet In a way, I think my life depends upon it.
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31
One of my year long sophomore subjects will be physics. At first, physics seems to be a menagerie of big, boring universal ideas and immutable laws rendered practically unimportant by their scale. Peter, ok, let’s call him my boyfriend - just as a place-holder - is working on his “Doctorate in Applied Physics,” degree. “Will you help me with my physics homework?” I asked, hopefully. “I’m sure we can work something out,” he assures me, wiggling his eyebrows suspiciously. Peter got to visit the Hadron Collider, in Geneva, this summer. When I FaceTimed him he was as animated as a girl at drama camp. He was all, “proton collisions, Higgs bosons, top quarks and massive particles, bla, bla, bla..” “That’s ok, I said, “If you’d rather not talk about it, I understand.” Seriously though, I get it. Physics teaches critical thinking and problem solving. Fluid dynamics and pressure-volume-resistance relationships apply to the circulatory system. Pressure-volume curves can apply to lung function, heat transfer is applicable to frostbite, hypothermia and fevers - nuclear physics applies to nuclear medicine (SPECT, PET scans and radiation therapy and lasers) - yatta, yatta yatta. But why ME, oh, lord?
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Aug 10, 2022
Aug 10, 2022 at 12:41 PM UTC
physics