Wut Time is Love
The concern over time is a sign of age, I think. I notice my perception of what "my time," is worth, is never consistent. Sometimes, I feel that time is cruel:we retire,too old to enjoy our wealth, or maybe we feel that life has passed us by, while we're caught up achieving success.Other times, life seems far too short.I often wonder how much longer I can go on. I catch myself enyving those who are driven by genius, or passion, a madness none can understand, nor could they explain. The choices are simple, for such persons, as they've no choice but to go along for the ride. I wonder why I envy such slavery?
Time is certainly two thinks, to me: an necessary illusion and a trap.Time appears cruel and mechanical because we imagine things happening to us. But it doesn't make sense, to my rational mind, that it is so.
Zoom out, zoom in, thinks slow down, or speed up, respectively. Stuffin and puffin his pipe, Einstein figured out that time wasn't the big obstacle, it was the little one. Time exists only as a metaphor, inseperable from space, an account of energy's expense. Time is a perceptual by-product, a metabolight of our sensual interaction, in the fourth dimension, motion.
I'm saying what you already know: energy is the prime concern, the energy we require to fill desires' void, the consumption of which determines our vitality. Maintaining available access to energy is the penultimate anti-anxiety drug, the ultimate in power. Oddly enough, it's still possible to succumb to the three poisons of ignorance, greed, and hate, while hoarding more than enough energy. This disease of the mind is the bitter fruit of suffering.
Though not always in our immediate personal favor, and often dependent upon our current value system, we obey nature's fundamental economic principles; because, our energy resources seem finite. But, energy is everywhere. Why do we struggle, why do we hoard?With what are we struggling? Our psyches require energy, just as our body, our car, our home, and our planet does. The most delicious food for our spirit is authenticity and beauty. We will follow others with these attributes like moths into the bug zapper.
The concern over time is a sign of age, I think. I notice my perception of what "my time," is worth, is never consistent. Sometimes, I feel that time is cruel:we retire,too old to enjoy our wealth, or maybe we feel that life has passed us by, while we're caught up achieving success.Other times, life seems far too short.I often wonder how much longer I can go on. I catch myself enyving those who are driven by genius, or passion, a madness none can understand, nor could they explain. The choices are simple, for such persons, as they've no choice but to go along for the ride. I wonder why I envy such slavery?
Time is certainly two thinks, to me: an necessary illusion and a trap.Time appears cruel and mechanical because we imagine things happening to us. But it doesn't make sense, to my rational mind, that it is so.
Zoom out, zoom in, thinks slow down, or speed up, respectively. Stuffin and puffin his pipe, Einstein figured out that time wasn't the big obstacle, it was the little one. Time exists only as a metaphor, inseperable from space, an account of energy's expense. Time is a perceptual by-product, a metabolight of our sensual interaction, in the fourth dimension, motion.
I'm saying what you already know: energy is the prime concern, the energy we require to fill desires' void, the consumption of which determines our vitality. Maintaining available access to energy is the penultimate anti-anxiety drug, the ultimate in power. Oddly enough, it's still possible to succumb to the three poisons of ignorance, greed, and hate, while hoarding more than enough energy. This disease of the mind is the bitter fruit of suffering.
Though not always in our immediate personal favor, and often dependent upon our current value system, we obey nature's fundamental economic principles; because, our energy resources seem finite. But, energy is everywhere. Why do we struggle, why do we hoard?With what are we struggling? Our psyches require energy, just as our body, our car, our home, and our planet does. The most delicious food for our spirit is authenticity and beauty. We will follow others with these attributes like moths into the bug zapper.