A public development of my political and philosophical musings. Occasional thoughts on current events. Primarily for personal satisfaction.

Monday, February 02, 2004

It’s hard to imagine time being relative. You’d think if anything was independent of the physical world, that would be it. But what is time? Where is it? The future exists only in our imagination, the past only in our memory. We assume the future because we experienced the past, we assume the past to explain what’s around us and the images in our heads. Neither has a real, physical existence. Of the three tenses, the only one that exists is now, that’s where we spend our entire lives.

But what is the present? It’s not a span, with a beginning and an end, it’s a moment so tiny, so precise that our minds can grasp it only when we don't try. No time passes in the present. It’s more of a transition point, where the future changes into the past, a doorway, a portal. We live in that portal, trying to stay on our feet as the future rushes by on its way to the past. Its relentless flow is exhausting.
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