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thoughts and feels and thoughts and feels
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September 2009
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thoughts and feels and thoughts and feels [userpic]
because obviously, i can't clog your flist enough.


I'm not even sure what I'd do if I was there.

I have an odd feeling I might want to get down on my hands and knees and dig and see if I could touch what it's like to have been born in 1794. To have died before anything I've ever seen was constructed. To find these people of long ago and say What was it like? Tell me your stories.

These people who, but for the gulf of time between us, are still as alive as you and I.

This is so neat.

It's like ... I'm just on the edge of some great universal revelation, of breaking through this thin gauze we experience as the time that separates us from others. I'm so close to being there. If I could just see what has been there all along - if I could just realize it. And so I sit here with small tears in my eyes and fingers pressed to my forehead and I scarcely think about this as I type.

It is interesting, though at a right angle to the above paragraph, that in this moment I see time as a veil, a divider with no depth, but often other times I know time to be just an empty distance that separates two points.



As with many things, I think life and death and time are sorely misrepresented. More change happens in conjuction with a wedding than a funeral.