In my own head, I always seem to think that there’s plenty of time. Not in anyone else’s head, only mine. Only in my own head, which is expanding outwards and outwards like a giant orange hallucinatory pumpkin getting bigger and bigger going beyond all the bounds of probability. It is rushing onwards like the wind, moving faster and faster all the time. I notice all the things flying past me and I no longer have any time for them. All those familiar things that now seem so very curious. All the things in the world are rushing by me – I’m leaving them all behind. Nothing can stop me now I think, and it was as if my thoughts were little lizards scurrying lightly over the rocks under heat-giving rays of the early morning sun – so fast, so sure-footed. I notice all the various things race by me in a distinctly hallucinatory fashion and I realize that I must be approaching the very outermost fringes of the universe. It’s the solemn procession of all the familiar things only they’re not so familiar to me now after all. I’m leaving the universe behind – what is it anyway but a localized crinkle in the space-time continuum? Perhaps people make too big a deal of the universe, it occurs to me; perhaps it’s not as big a deal as we always make it out to be. It’s just like a muddy footprint in the hall, no big deal at all. Get over it. Space-time got a bit bent out of shape and that’s all there is to it. Nothing to get too excited about. It’ll soon get fixed. These were a few of my thoughts as my head kept on expanding outwards and outwards. As I watched it seemed to me that even the space-time continuum itself was only a bit of a passing show. Seems like a big thing of course – we always say that the S-T continuum is a big thing. We put on a solemn face when we talk about it. This is serious now, we say with our expression. We make the effort to look suitably grave and dignified, as befits one who is talking about the S-T continuum. But it’s not a big deal. It’s a bit of a joke really, if only we could see it.  I can see it because my head has become so vast, so expansive. Space and time looks like a big deal when you don’t know any better. Understandably enough, I suppose. It’s all a bit of a front though really – it’s like a street in a film set where all the houses are simply facades with nothing behind them. It’s like a two-dimensional world that we somehow get fooled by. A cheap show, effective only for those who don’t know any better. Effective enough only for those who want to be entertained, I should say. It comes along and it takes centre stage and it seems to be like some kind of a ‘thing’ but that’s only because you are measuring it by its own standards. But space and time lasts for trillions of years you say. It takes up a large amount of space – so large in fact that there’s no room for anything else. You see what I mean? You see my point? Get over it, I’d be inclined to say. It’s a storm in a tea-cup. I can see that very clearly indeed because my head has got so vast now that it’s not even big anymore. It’s like that riddle – ‘What’s bigger than the whole universe and yet smaller than a mustard seed?’ Riddle me that, my fellow riddlers. Put on your most serious face. Try to comport yourself in a suitably grave and dignified fashion. Force yourselves to be all solemn and serious about it, just for the sake of the Great Joke that we’re all party to, however unwittingly…