The Daily Conundrum
Did you ever get the sense that the passage of time was strange somehow? That moving from one moment into the next, and being able to measure the passage of time as the recurrence of transpiring events on the face of a clock is indescribably silly; that without such measuring devices your own ability to perceive the passage itself, if its frequency were to alter, would not exist. If someone from "outside the timeline" were to observe that the passage of time for our own timeline had stopped, we would not notice or be able to. The passing moments, although felt viscerally enough, and experienced with great sensation at the moment, are every next moment gone forever, and remembered only in the signatures of existance and force that they leave. There really are no "moments" or fragments of time, simply you existing in this pane of reality moving ever forward, never to be captured, never to be frozen, never to be trapped, only remembered. And in remembering, you participate still in motion of time, the inescapable onwardness.
