His life depicted him becoming quite a pronounced Granola, wearing the most Eco-friendly pair of sandals, being happy to work his ass off to just shrivel up and die.

The thought came, "Where's the fun in that?"

The silence Josh created was finally broken, and from a corner in the middle of nowhere; resonating like an echo from a spot far off in the distance came the thought "I want no part in a world filled with robots!"

"You're crazy!" The voice had returned.

Quickly Josh snapped back, "No, I can't be crazy."

"Wait, who said that?" Josh asking his self the question and not the voice, realizing that he had two conflicting thoughts and this voice was different.

"Not crazy huh, then why are you talking to yourself?" The strange voice replied smugly.

"If I was crazy, I would be convinced you are a ghost with a message from beyond the grave or some stupid shit like that. I'm convinced you're from my over active imagination and nothing more."

“Do you really believe that statement?” The voice returned.

The figment's voice of Josh’s imagination was vapid and did not have a discerning tone or accentuation. It was still clear to Josh it was the same person every time though, always coming and going as it pleased as if it was on a current of air, providing Josh a strong, peaceful tether reassuring connection to second reality.

His vision became tunneled scanning the floor for something to look at, the things in sight would disappear and then reappear. Everything slowly stopped moving around, found a temporary home, and started fading away. Slowly at first, eventually he fell in to a thousand miles stare and everything was gone. Piercing the floor with his gaze, he peered intently in to the vision that had come before him.

"Well, it's nice to see you and welcome. Are you ready to take a journey through time and space?" The professor that he envisioned was speaking with his back to the class. His voice rose to echo off the board and back to the students in the class. This was the first day of the semester, he was scribbling his name on the board for everyone to absorb.

Stepping forward from behind the table, he moved to the front of the class, he was an weathered old man wearing a white lab coat that had become grey with time. Behind him sat a flask, some beakers, and a condenser with rubber tubing. His hair was completely white from stress. Folded in his lab coat’s breast pocket laid his large bifocals, he preferred featureless faces to the fussing of keeping them straight during a lecture.

"Energy is the vaguest word that I have come to know. Energy does not really explain anything but can define so much extraordinary crap. It works its way into everyday conversations to baffle or even spare a little light on a subject. Scientist, students and thinkers alike have brought themselves to use such a useless word as energy. To me, the word does not mean anything. It means everything." Waving his finger, "It was derived at time before most of the knowledge I obtained was discovered. Shall we do a quick experiment on why finding the real definition of energy is important?"

He was going to perform the experiment if the class agreed or not. The lab was set up, and after the slight turn of a valve, the gas now flowing to the Bunsen burner. The professor inched a lit match in to the expanding plume and with a poof, the flame jumped to life. After adjusting the raging fire to a smaller more controllable size, he returned to the lecture at hand as if he had never stopped.

"Energy, in my mind, was the solution to a group of men that were debating the mystifying source of all life's power. This group of thinkers observing life and its diversity were still baffled and in the dark. They most likely termed the word energy and proclaimed 'to be active' as its definition and in 1570 this stood to be true. Energy like humans had become a label for things that could have much more meaning. Their true potential is never expressed."

A few liquid droplets started condensing and rolling down the tube where it was collecting in a beaker. The clear liquid that had collected hardly covered the bottom of the beaker. The solution begun to froth and brown residue was forming.

"When Albert Einstein first presented his ideas to the science community, everybody had their doubts in him." The mustache playfully wobbled and bounced on the professor’s lip when he talked. His bushy grey eyebrows danced with the thought, “Now before you put me up there with the almighty Einstein and build me a wonderful shrine.”

"There comes a time in which you must admit you're wrong. Except the idea that we can never grasp the concepts that are taking place in nature. Birds and that of all living things manipulate their surroundings to accomplishing the things deemed necessary. What will always be unknown is what makes energy act in the way it does, or how it came to exist in the first place. Words can never describe this process. Constantly questioning everything and never answering anything. This is science, and for that matter, philosophy. Philosophy is the nature of man. Questions only lead to more questions. This is why birds only sing and never talk."

One of the students questioned, "What does this have to do with physics?", and without an answer, the lecture continued.

"People have mastered different forces functioning in the real world, but that alone does not actually answer why it occurs. We will be reaching further into the unknown and continuously bringing back more unknown." His voice had lost most of its tone. Then after dismantling a couple pieces of the lab, he put the liquid he collected over the flame, and with the same breath from his last sentence, he rushed out of the room."

Small amounts of the gas started leaking out from the beaker and a thin but onvisible cloud was forming. The class, confused by what was happening, stayed to inhale the gas released from its liquid form. When people started coughing, shock came over the crowd and people started rushing to the door. One of the football jocks started vomiting. It seemed he was more sensitive to the noxious gas.

The large acoustic room erupted in panicked noise. The sounds of people scurrying around reverberated off the drab walls. Slowly the pupils cascaded down the stadium seating, and drained out of the lecture hall like water from a cistern, leaving the brightly lit room dank with discarded emotions.

"Good, glad you guys could join me." The professor said with authority, he was standing a few paces down the hall.

"Follow Me," he commanded.

"All of you will be alright after a minute that was only a minute amount of tear gas, nothing hazardous; and now you see why we have a specific name for everything, because energy acts in mysterious ways."

A frustrated voice came from the crowd "You'll pay for what you did."

The professor calmly repeated aloud, "If the phrase, “seeing is believing” is true, then why we are all subjected to believe the fallacies of others when we ourselves haven't witnessed the account personally."

"Will they believe you, is the question, or will they just turn a blind eye to the situation?" He asked. Moving around the crowd toward the doors behind them, he then gave out some words of wisdom, "Forget about the past and focus on the future. Come learn of the true potential of potential energy."

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