Lounging in the blur of in-between time

Lounging in the blur of in-between time

blur

Sometimes when I’m feeling overwhelmed by people and events in general, I’ll get in my time travel machine, and rather than go to another time and place, I’ll jigger the machine’s joy stick so that I’ll go to the in-between place. It’s not not in time. It’s on the outskirts of being somewhere. There’s nothing to see, or any of those other senses. Well, actually there’s a slight tactical feeling because I have to keep that minimal hand shake going with the joy stick.

There’s just less than the bare minimum sense of time, kind of like a whiff. Seconds get elongated like long shadows in the late afternoon. I think less. Much less. The thoughts aren’t sentences like in the time zone. They are much reduced. Like earlier today when I was doing this, my thought was, “Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.”

Now and then (it’s impossible to describe this without using a time reference) there’s a subtle movement back in the direction of time, and I’ll see some hazy watercolor blips appear, like a diminished thought of colors. Or I’ll hear the reduced murmur of words, like “wweeaallhh bblllouuhh.” Then I rejigger and back to the tonality of mostly nothing.

When I came back from this mostly timeless occurrence today, everything was enhanced. I was aware of milliseconds going by. It turns out time is noisy. We don’t notice it when we’re always in it, but it’s a loudy. On top of this juicy bit I was dramatically well rested. That’s because time is also exhausting. Time uses our personal currents as its gasoline. Who knew we were fuel!

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