Friday, September 30, 2016

The myth of living






Some cosmologists now say that time is an entirely human construct, a fantasy that we tell ourselves and agree upon with one another. Gravity is too weak to cause significant interaction with particles at the atomic level, and there is little agreed upon science or math that posits it as the implacable one-way force that it seems to be, which in one sense it must be for it to affect the structure of the universe in the way that we have sensed and claimed. The time-cone is just a way of humans understanding their lives in the vastness of space. 

I am paraphrasing an article I read that I could not find again by a Google search. Somebody posted it online and I am too lazy to go back and find it. 

The cosmologists are putting themselves to the task of eliminating it from the discussion so that we can move on without it impacting how we understand the structure of things as they are. If they succeed then superposition will not seem nearly so bizarre any more. 


For me, it is impossible to consider anything outside of time for very long. I mean, I can do it in the abstract sense but as soon as I think of myself in relation to the universe, which I always do, then time leaps back into my limited conception of things and I am right where I was when I first drifted off.  

I waste a lot of time. I lounge around and read books, watch clips online, listen to music, write posts here against the imaginary wall of the internet, then fall in love with women who do not yet know me and probably never will. It is a way of multi-tasking - I am able to be productive and procrastinate all at once. 


The clouds just parted here in the valley and I wish only to spend my time in a way that might cause the universe to smile upon me and my silly subatomic vanities. 

Still, death announces itself with the sound of rumbling in the distance on an otherwise perfect day.





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