Time, or better perhaps just the notion of it, has been haunting me lately. Still remember the days when I could let it flow (or was it me moving through it?), and evolve. But not anymore as slowly, but steadily, the actual meaning of entropy has become clear to me by revealing ever more non-reversible processes. If time is only in our minds I wonder why it left ears ringing with no beat to drum to.
I have come to agree with Mr. Robert Smith, that time is like sand in your crushing hands: the harder you try to hold onto it the faster it escapes thorough your fingers.
Being silly about it (as if this whole post wasn’t stupid enough), if time is just what happens when you count events, then stop counting! Problem solved and the apex predator has lost track of this particular prey.
I sincerely wish my brain could conjure an existence outside of time, a place forever frozen. Space divorced from time due to imminent danger to life.
Alas, must admit that I sort of like this morbid idea of counting as existence and ultimate cause of death. Thus, I choose to count my life by how many band rehearsals I’ve had. Or better yet, by how many notes have been plucked away in my old red bass, it must be in the millions just while I used to sit by the window in front of my Sharp cassette recorder.
Guess that’s the power of music, be it listening or creating it… makes time irrelevant while inmortality touches you.
Inmortality resides where those little moments when time is irrelevant.