Perspective shifts accordingly:

My peripheral vision is swift, accelerating rotations welcome the constant blurs beside me

In front of me, moving every so slowly until I blink, and suddenly it shines. It’s new.

Behind me, who is to know? Looking back never quite sheds the same view of what had once been set before me. The vision is lost to time and weather.

What is living within the perfect amount of presence? What is “there?” WHEN is “there?”

 

Time, the only truly measurable parameter, yet it’s measurements amount to nothing separate of perspective. What good is a second lasting hours and hours lasting seconds? When years are mere moments and moments last forever?

Those moments of impact that change us, that take such a loud snapshot, skew our perception of measurements. We are no longer controllers of spending but our time spent controls our next point of view.

Suffering leads to avoidance or the need to confront, the time spent is no longer applicable to the time necessary to shut off the imprinted moment. What is memory but a compendium of evoking senses that have occurred and caused a shift in perception?

Mere sounds or echoes linger in memory and when mimicked in life, can throw time backwards to that impactful horror. Sound itself is enslaved to depiction by time… when do we hear what is needed to be heard and how long ago was something said that held the value of a lesser mind?

Minutes can give bitterness or wisdom.. no trait of time is of its own. To want to be in that place, to be “there,” it can take a millennia or less than even a second. When time is ruler of perception, what perceives can alter expenditure of time.

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