Time waits for no man!

Woman maybe?

Okay, that’s just sexist!

But seriously…

This was part of a tweet that plunged my, rather paracurious, mind into a crazy conversation with itself. One it would not let go even after countless attempts to ostracize itself from. And yes, if you are reading this, this post is dedicated to you: for constructing a tweet so profound you forced my defenseless mind into trying to dismember its intricacies. Time well wasted.

That been said, I do not remember who tweeted what—as I have sat on this for a year and two months. So I make this to all you citizens of the blogsphere, crawlers into individual creativity, sojourners into minds mapped with its authors words. Here’s to you, here’s to us, here’s to our passion.

This is a known maxim. The subject of the post, that is. Time is too busy being itself to care about meagre humans who would look up to it anyway. Time, king of its own domain, with one rule, one task, one act—all which are the same yet perceived as different—to tock!

Anonymous: Why then the maxim, which tends to grant it superiority, if all it does is this simple task, which a bimbo can undertake without flaw?

Explorer: Because Time is God—well sort of. No, no, not that sulky face. I will explain, promise, to the best of my incapacity. Cross my knee and hope to be cripple—can’t die just yet, still have to find Texidor.

Anonymous: Why must everything boil down religion?

Explorer: Religion is the first unknown. And despite the myriad plethora in advances science has made in shining light on the inexplicable, religion still remains an unknown. Fascinating, isn’t it? Dear Anonymous. Allow me use the Christian perspective to explain my previous claim—as that’s my origin.

Time. The apparition of the Christian God—I should say “an apparition of God from the Christian perspective”. The Alpha and the Omega: obviously the beginning and the end. Only thing that can mark these two points in history is Time. Even History is a slave of Time; for if Time chose not to “pass”, History will not have any space to occupy. The passage of Time creates a possibility History—of course we may have had something else in place of “His Story”, “Her Story” is equally valid. Time, moving in a rather swift slowness, creates eddy currents which we call “Historians”—and “Herstorians”—wallowing in cataloging and mentally scrutinizing events left by Time’s footprints.

Time. The one who was, is and is to come. The one who was as “past”. As described in the previous paragraph, that which has to be for History to become—hence “in the past”. The ever present now, the one whose existence must be recognized for the now to be reality. The current—?currency. The much respected marshaller of the future; ever lazy in his introduction of tomorrow. Yet in his time—in Time’s time—all things are made perfect!—how could they not be?

Time… with whom all things are made; and without whom nothing will be made that is made. My meagre meagre intellect, and rather subpar communication skills hampers me from explaining this in a way which makes this more apparent than is.

Time. The I am that I am. And truly, Time. just. is! It is nothing else but itself. Indivisible. Impermeable. A true essence of totality produced in simplicity. Turn up your microscope and delve into the inner workings of Time, you will find… Time, self repeating, everyhere and everythere, omnipresent in itself. Ardents from a Christian perspective hail Him as “I am that I am, I change not.” Time, being what it is, is only “time” since it changes. Consider the change of Change (or change to Change); this could be one of two things:

  1. the deviation from the actual procedure of change i.e. a change in which Change changes. This is a debatable knife-edge case which may [not] be considered as change OR
  2. the abolishment of the procedure altogether i.e. Change stops changing.

Since Time is not in the business of the later, the only loophole in Time being “I am that I am” lies in the former—since femtoseconds change faster than nanoseconds. But I enjoin you to see that in each domain—femto and nano, as shown, respectively—despite the change in rate, it changes nonetheless. And this is an inherent trait in Time, a necessary inclusion in its idiosyncrasy. Under this definition, as an embodiment of variable change, we can then conclude that Time is as it is, it changes not.

Time. An apparition of God—from a perspective. And one that knows, rightly so, his position and his nature—it struts proudly onwards, one interval intermittently. No wonder it has no time for man. Even men—as [hu]manly as they are—when graced with an iota of some God juice, they begin to have no time for their fellow men.

Time… quod erad demonstrandum.


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