Beloved, sometimes you feel that you might prefer to be unhampered with dates and time and minutes and miles. Such precision seems to be a nuisance and get in the way of actual life. You feel pinned down, and you would rather be free from such attention on all that which often seems to be beside the point and gets in your way and occupies so much of your life!

Sometimes you would rather write with a stick in the sand. Then, when the tide comes in and goes out, much would be erased. There would be less that you would have to keep track of and have on your mind.

Isn’t all of life Let’s Pretend anyway? You have heard me allude to this. You understand that there is Infinity, yet Infinity is all at once and needs no filing system. Infinity is somehow permanent, you hear, yet how do you really know when time itself is not?

You do take Me at My Word that this reputed Infinity actually does exist, yet what is all this time about anyway and having to locate it or having lost it or never having had it in the first place or barely having an allusion to it.

Must time be taken seriously when it is such a bother? Much of the time, you don't have any illusory time left to speak of. You don’t know what you did with it or where it went off to on its own. Sometimes preoccupation with time makes you feel twitchy. Even the illusion of time is here today, and gone tomorrow.

Without time, you wouldn’t have to chase it even as you don’t usually catch onto it anyway.

If there were not time, could the possibility of being out of time exist?

If you could sense that time is or isn’t, wouldn’t life be simpler? There does seem to be something going on with or without time. Time seems to take you for a ride. For something like time that is purported not to exist, time can sure hang heavily on you.
If time somehow could exist, well, it disappears the minute it seems to arrive.

And what about words? The instant a word starts to form, it also is disappearing. And the same goes for thoughts and scenarios.

The truth is you don’t know what to make of life in the first place. So-called time only seems to exist for the briefest of moments.

The truth is you don’t know where to hang your hat.

The truth is you don’t have a handle on to who you are. Sure, you can pinch your arm, yet what does this really tell you? Regardless, you seem to be up in the air, and you don’t know how to pin yourself down. Everything is far ahead of you or far behind you even as you think you are at the seeming illusive head of the list.

There is something puzzling going on. The only thing that honestly seems to be happening is that something ends the moment it begins and may never be seen again.

Of course, something called thoughts wander in at the same moment as they wander out. Nothing is for certain – not even log jams and traffic jams. Just about everything in the world seems to be in or out.

Are all thoughts replayed or imagined in the first place? Yet, if the very world is temporary, we go around in circles, What is there to hold onto in this temporary world?

As a matter of fact, you don’t even know what Vastness really might be?

Perhaps all that exists is a mirage. Or is a mirage somehow more real than an oasis?

How does forgetfulness take possession of you? What is what?