#cracking
I just…
Study ‘cracks’ mystery of water-promoted fracture growth on glass
Glass windows often endure external environmental factors such as wind, rain, and humidity, which lead to the formation of microcracks in their surface. For instance, a gust of wind can propel sand onto a window and create microscale surface cracks due to the impact of sharp-edged sand particles. These microcracks then grow in size when aggravated by water droplets and humidity.
When water comes in contact with these surface flaws, it penetrates the microcracks and slowly dissolves the silicon-oxygen bonds. This chemical attack breaks the glass networks which gradually degrades the mechanical strength and optical properties of glass structures. This environmentally enhanced crack growth process is known as stress corrosion or subcritical crack growth (SCG). The depreciation of mechanical performance due to SCG raises safety concerns for skyscrapers and high-rise buildings.
Recently, scientists have taken an interest in the effect of SCG on two widely used types of soda-lime glass: annealed and tempered glass. However, most studies have focused on establishing crack growth rates, and not much is known about the effect of water on the propagation of crack flaws. Additionally, many of the studies investigated the microcrack propagation dynamics of annealed glass and not tempered glass.
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My outlets have cycled from different blogs, to twitter, and have returned to this one.
The fact I still needoutlets is a frustrating thing. I can never be happy, but I’ve lived with this for so long, I really don’t know what it means to be happy. Or joyful. But damn, do I know how to fucking fake it.
I hurt so goddamn much inside, but I smile, and I know how to smile with my eyes, and my voice. I know how to fit in. I know how to make patients feel somewhat comfortable for the short time I’m with them. It can’t last long, but it’s enough, and it’s exhausting as hell. There’s a formula to fit in, to make people feel generally comfortable.
But I still hurt inside. Sometimes, alone, I make the outside match the inside. And pawn it off as a fall, or accidents from climbing or stumbling outdoors. But these cuts remind me that I’m still alive - whether that’s a good thing or bad, the jury’s relatively still out. I’m thinking it’s the latter.
I’ve made it this far, but recently for some reason it’s gotten tougher and tougher. I’m cracking, and I’m all out of glue.
