This human is pushing against the walls of time.
I lay wake at night, considering posting on the philosophy boards. But what could I say that could not be said? My mind bouncing in on itself, bouncing and contained by it’s own bounds, the perception of perception.
And what reality cannot be, other than the reality of need (build) satisfied by the cessation of need? Can there be anything else?
Each word I type each time I log in online. I logged in before. I logged in again. It is futile. All our actions are futile.
I think of myself pushing a wall of time. To stop the moments from happening.
What is this thing that is pushing us forward? Even in stillness, even in emptiness, we move forward. What is pushing us? We cannot stop it. It seems to have a set speed of its own.
A metaphorical representation of Earth and Time.
