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“There’s time and then there is time,” emphasized the instructor. “Time as we know it is a solid, rigid, measurable prison that plods forward minute by minute. We are all held in suspense trying to guess what the outcome of our actions will be. There is no way of checking.”
He paused. I think he was experiencing some sort of memory or something. I could tell from where I was sitting that he wasn’t even here anymore. It was brief. He shook it off and kept speaking.
“Now, there is a mathematical provable fifth dimension.” He continued. “This dimension is something outside of time that we can look at. It’s the totality of time. Think of the moments of your life like books in a library. The fifth dimension is that library. We can go in and look up moments of your life and read them.”
He paused again. He was probably thinking of a moment of his life that he’d like to look at.
I’m was sure his book was a thick, earthy tome with locks on the sturdy ornamented cover and gilded pages upon gilded pages of love that I couldn’t possibly hope to fathom or even recognize. I’m sure it was an almost philosophical level of ecstasy that transcended mere humanity. It was a level of love made possible by the years of experience needed to even know it let alone appreciate it. It was a love that would drown me if it didn’t have the wisdom to bypass me entirely.
You know the little corner of the library that has out of date magazines? Like maybe for kids with short attention spans or perhaps the bored friends of studious people?
That’s my library. I’m not even old enough to drive. Its ridiculous how lost I am in most conversations. Most of the magazines in my library have centerfolds and dirty advertisements in the pages that aren’t stuck together. There are glossy pictures of celebrities and short repetitive articles on appearance. There are a few covers with shots of my family on them as well. There would be shots of my friends if I had any.
I wonder how things are going to turn out. I wonder if I’ll have a library one day.
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He paused. I think he was experiencing some sort of memory or something. I could tell from where I was sitting that he wasn’t even here anymore. It was brief. He shook it off and kept speaking.
“Now, there is a mathematical provable fifth dimension.” He continued. “This dimension is something outside of time that we can look at. It’s the totality of time. Think of the moments of your life like books in a library. The fifth dimension is that library. We can go in and look up moments of your life and read them.”
He paused again. He was probably thinking of a moment of his life that he’d like to look at.
I’m was sure his book was a thick, earthy tome with locks on the sturdy ornamented cover and gilded pages upon gilded pages of love that I couldn’t possibly hope to fathom or even recognize. I’m sure it was an almost philosophical level of ecstasy that transcended mere humanity. It was a level of love made possible by the years of experience needed to even know it let alone appreciate it. It was a love that would drown me if it didn’t have the wisdom to bypass me entirely.
You know the little corner of the library that has out of date magazines? Like maybe for kids with short attention spans or perhaps the bored friends of studious people?
That’s my library. I’m not even old enough to drive. Its ridiculous how lost I am in most conversations. Most of the magazines in my library have centerfolds and dirty advertisements in the pages that aren’t stuck together. There are glossy pictures of celebrities and short repetitive articles on appearance. There are a few covers with shots of my family on them as well. There would be shots of my friends if I had any.
I wonder how things are going to turn out. I wonder if I’ll have a library one day.
tags
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Date: 6 Oct 2006 06:10 (UTC)no subject
Date: 6 Oct 2006 06:41 (UTC)no subject
Date: 6 Oct 2006 12:53 (UTC)