Only but a few things, atrocious in their nature, are beyond adulteration, beyond the grace of cute misinterpretation. Of all is the adulteration of “Beyond”, herself. Humanly, she is adulterated as Beyonce; but I joke a ridiculous joke as this is not the point.
She, “ Beyond”, generally, has been adulterated as “past” from “most”. In this sense we ascribe her transcendence to Time, shunning Space. Especially in with the case of the immaterial. An immaterial said to be “beyond” is mostly said to transcend in time.
Time is considered infinite; as the infinitesimal praises the spec, as cogs praise the wheel and as tire tracks hallow roads. A transcendence (an existence like ours posited far beyond our perceptive capacities) in this domain is placed therefore in eternity, the home of the procrastinator.
Space, on the other hand, would bellow—with passion in its certainty—that “beyond” encompasses, and it’s neither “then” nor “when”, but now! Masters of old had tried to show this to us but due to the limitation of a highly fragmented language and a culture entrenched in segregated linguistics, we are necessarily blind to this concept.
In this misunderstanding, we have evolved to adore falsity and bow at its feet.
However! Thus, hitherto, has “Beyond” masked her self from us. Henceforth shall she be understood: as the under-face of her mask—as neither this Space nor that Time, and vice versa, but the dance of the concept which births both.