We live in the thick of it, and it pervades us- the idea that time is money - that success is a personal triumph, and that we own it, and that we're things.
This notion sticks to us and glues us to external standards...
It is a pathology of temporal duration, and it holds apocalypse and salvation (the same), in front of us, always in front of us - on the linear yardstick of history.
Enough. Eat your carrot. You've earned it. Things will proceed differently, now.
Time is not a stick. It's a lake, a flower, a galaxy. It is multiple pulsing croaks haunting a forest which... which it also IS. At the SAME TIME.
Simultaneous and layered.
Haunted, Haunting, Haunter.
Memento mori.
Chronos is a gnomon, Aion is the Sun!
Become outside the lead-lined aquaducts of The History... be instead a strange rivulet of time: a furry finger that defies mono-tony. A million furry fingers reaching off out the rhizome of timely flow.
We are the roots in eternity's soil.
Do you want me to spell it for you?
YOU HAVE PERMISSION TO BE ORIGINAL.
I love you. Thrive, fore-fronters, thrive and make this tired old dust of history rich loam again for the futures.
Beyond the monotimes of empire: Apocalypse, dawn, epiphany, salvation.
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