It seems there was once a time where we all know, can even agree on and join together in remembrance, that's completely devoid of the past, the facts. Perhaps it is the case that there are such things as past facts, as well, but that's a topic for another time.
We all remember our own memories with a hint more of a translucent blur to them each time we take that photo off of the shelf. Hands are greasy, after all, and with each fumbling through, plumbing at the heart of the moment, what we feel leaves us a little bit, to exist in that waiting room between space and time.
Why were those two the dimensions that were bound together? Why couldn't we have gotten light-time instead? Space-smell, where time existed backward and forward in different odors?
What drug would be able to answer these skin-level ponderances, you ask?
None, I say. Quit bundling up against the wrong storm, that internal maelstrom that shutters you from bar to bar to 3AM apartment hookup every weekend.
It's soup season, everyone. Grab a pot and cozy up for an evening, will you?
I'm also the kind who wrestles with existential questions about time, money, live, being.
The challenge is to live outside of time by living now. Not thinking about past or future, just living the moment as naturally as possible.
I'm so good at giving advice...
One way to really see how long time can feel is to just not look at it at all. Someone i've been speaking with has suggested this practice to me. Just begin small... pick maybe an afternoon, one day a week. During that time don't look at the time, don't make any time based plans, just be.
unfortunately work makes timelessness impossible, and days off of work feel fleeting so i feel more mindful of the time. perhaps that therein is both the ailment and the cure, but i dropped out of this medical school