There is no time like the present. If time existed at all, there would be only the present, but, of course, time simply isn't a factor in Infinity. You can't break Infinity up into pieces or installments or shapes of any which way.

If time did indeed exist, it could only exist in this particular moment that is on its way out as We speak. Every so-called moment is replaced like one zooming bee after another. Imaginary time is so fast that it is instantly overtaken. Time is a zipper that goes up and goes down.

There are countries which declare at certain seasons that you turn your clock one hour ahead or one hour behind, and no one blinks an eye. Full knowing that time is fast or slow according to how you feel about it, time plays its game and hoodwinks you.

So time retracts or bursts ahead. Time is declared, and everyone obeys the clock as if time were the Holy Grail.

Time is a dominant feature. Time is like a religion that no one would show disrespect to. All the world is on time according to the clock. It is a ritual, to look at the clock, and check it often. Time has got you by the neck. Who can forsake time in the world? Everyone bows down to it.

At some time or another, time will become defunct.

Nor does space exist. Only as it is agreed upon, does it. It is measured. Space is bought and sold and bid on. Space can be cleared, and space can be full. And someone can be spacey. 

Illusion is of great interest to you. Even as illusion is an extravaganza mock-up, you will defend space and time to the end. You declare space and time yours as if you own them and are required to own up to them. Of course, living in the world requires you.

You fortify yourself with the idea that the chair you sit in is solid. If the chair you sit on were not solid, you would fall to the floor. If the floor you stand on were not solid, the floor wouldn't hold you up either. If space were not solid, where on Earth would you be?

You wouldn't be Dorothy in Kansas either, nor would you be the Wizard of Oz. Nor would you be Hans Brinker skating on the ice in Holland. Nor would you be Emil and the Detectives in Germany. Without illusions, none of your stories would hold up.

If you swim, you swim in acts of your imagination. If you walk in the forest, your legs are molecules and such whirling. If you eat a cherry pie, you would be eating a lovely piece of imagination.

At the same time, you would keep to the pictures your mind drew. You would have infallible faith in the pictures you drew and the cut-outs you make of them. You would believe in all the one-sided news, and you would imagine ballerinas and all sorts of things and believe in them utterly.

You see what is not. You don't see the Soul Life that is the inner workings of you.

How many of My children truly believe in themselves as more than appears to the eye? You may take Me with a grain of salt – more than salt – more like silk and cover-ups. You may lean to finding My existence suspicious.

The cherry on the cake would be that I am contained within you! When I tell you this Truth, I hear you say: "C'mon – get outta here! How can I swallow this malarkey You, God, hand out?"

If you really deeply truly believed the fiction you figure I hand out, you fear you might be in la-la land.

Beloveds, you are in la-la land at present for I give you the True Goods. You shake your head as if to say, "Impossible," when I give you the Unassailable Truth.