I had invented Imaginary Time

I was in a nightmare. I was in a nightmare because I was identified with the dead shell of nonentity and I was struggling for all I was worth to make it be something, to make be alive. To make it not be the dead shell of nonentity. I was struggling to keep my life – such as it was – going. Not that I was under any illusion that my life was worth perpetuating. It was all pure reflex and nothing else. It was survival reflex. I was like a chicken running down the road with no head. Trying to get the hell out of there! Trying its frantic best to escape before something bad happens to it…

 

What do you call that? I call it shutting the barn door after the horse has bolted. The bad thing has already happened so you can stop running now! You can’t outrun it so don’t stress yourself trying. What have you got to be afraid of after all? Apart from fear itself.

 

Fear’s a pretty big thing though. Fear’s the biggest thing in the world when you’re running from it. Fear’s all there is when you’re running from it! Fear’s the world. Fear is the whole universe. So you just have to keep on running and running and running even though the bad thing has already happened and you can’t outrun it. You’re already dead so why are you stressing it? What else do you think could happen to you? It’s a bit late to be running now, wouldn’t you say?

 

Only you wouldn’t say. You haven’t the time to be asking those questions because you’re far too busy running. You don’t have time to notice that you no longer have a head – you’re in too much of a blind panic, trying to get out of the way of the axe that’s about to fall on you. The axe that already has fallen on you. You’re hoping against hope that you can evade your fate. Stupidly believing that you have a chance to evade the inevitable, you have created Fear world. Turned stupid by your terror, you have foolishly created the Universe of Fear. Or rather I had created the Universe of Fear since it’s me we are talking about here.  Because this is my story. Or rather it isn’t my story, not really. It’s the story of the dead shell of nonentity which was me. Only it wasn’t me. It wasn’t anyone. My situation wasn’t good, I don’t mind telling you. Only it wasn’t my situation, not really. But I thought it was. For me it was. Even though it wasn’t really…

 

You see I was dead already but I just didn’t know it. There was nothing there and it wasn’t happening. Whatever I thought was happening. I didn’t exist but I thought I did. The bad thing had already happened but I thought I still had a chance! Or rather I didn’t think I had a chance I just hoped that I did and my hope was the denial of my fear.

 

I had made up my own sort of time – I had invented imaginary time! There wasn’t really any time but I was stretching it out. I was playing a delaying tactic, I was postponing the inevitable. I was pretending that it hadn’t happened but I didn’t know that I was pretending. I was clammy with fear, paralysed with fear. This is the type of fear no one likes to remember. The type of fear we all know so well. The type of fear we always come back to. I was inventing imaginary time. I was trying to sell myself the idea that I still had a chance. I was postponing my awareness of the truth. Putting it off and putting it off. I was in a nightmare only the nightmare didn’t really exist…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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