Carving one’s spacetime into same-money slices as if all hours were of equal importance: this is called the you-stay-over-here wage, or bare mininum. It is enough to eat, but one cannot stay wherever they want.
Space
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there is no
there is no time
only timing
there is no mind
only minding
there is no wind
only winding
there is no spiral
spiralling
this statement is
this statement is true
no other statements are true
this statement is false
the first line is true
the second line is true, too
the third line is false
all preceding lines,
all are neither true nor false,
only wastes of time
now is neither
now is neither
sometimes
nor always
nor never
nor now
everything else
everything else
is neither all
nor none
nor some
nothing else
is neither all
nor none
nor some
something else
is neither all
nor none
nor some
Confirming infinity by empirical observation
When I tell the truth to myself, I sound like I’m lying. (I hold irrational beliefs. My first-person point of view is invalid.)
I watch my credibility burn with the acid of my diagnosis. I grip nothing. I grasp at imaginary straws.
“The number following 0 is 1,” I report to you with a confidence index that has its own confidence index. “But, will you check my work again?”
Padding my armor with facts, “A breeze is blowing,” I claim. “The sun is out,” I state. “Believe me,” I beg. But I can’t tell if anyone believes me.
(I doubt the sun)
No part of my name identifies me. I’m not even in my body. The Mind of God owns my soul; I’m Their doll.
God wears me. It feels my life with my senses. If I want to be alone, not even He can let me. There would be gaps in Her omniscience.
I know it sounds ridiculous. I know it does. “I know,” I laugh, “I know”… but it is not ridiculous. Specifically, it is absurd.
Hyenas with my nicknames branded on their fur all fight for my attention. Mental sinews snap in tug-of-war, theirs and mine. Teeth grind, theirs and mine. I’m scattered among hysterical dung.
It’s not enough to prove a thing. It has to be measured, Mr. Cantor. Has to be felt by the physical apparatus of God, which is to say, the Material. The Flesh: scientific instruments, my tongue. I will taste what you theorize.
I’ll count out loud if I have to.
Woe to those who recognize their own irrationality. They cannot plea insanity – only plea insanely. They behave like madmen. They are tried as healthy.
Castor reasons with a delusional Pollux. Pollux argues gently with a misguided Castor. Both are certain the other is wrong. As it happens, both are right. They cannot convey the fact.
continuities
“is distinct from”
is distinct from
“is distinct from”
is is indistinct from is ?/.
is is indistinct from is ?/.
is is indistinct from is ?/.
is is not not is; is it not?
A-Series
memory is Past
imagination, Future
and measuring: Now
Said true
Let there be false
So fell yes from the heavenly no
Over the surface of always moves now: Every therefore singing
I am
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