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Hurtling Butt-First Through Time [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Phrembah (a potato-like mystery)

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Hurtling butt-first through time . . . [Aug. 26th, 2012|10:01 pm]
Phrembah (a potato-like mystery)

There is nothing but memory.  The universe is made entirely of memory.  We can only perceive memory.  Whatever we think happens, no matter how seemingly instantaneous, isn't perceived except as memory.  As soon as anything "happens," it is memory.  It might be the memory of an event that took place less than a second ago, but it is nevertheless memory.  By the time we cognize anything, all we have is a memory of it.  All we ever have is memory.  How do we know there is anything but memory?  Did something cause our memories?  Does something generate them by the hundreds of thousands second by second?  Or were they just always there?  What if Now is some kind of a cursor that simply indicates where our attention, our awareness, is resting at the moment.  Resting really isn't the word, though, because our perception never rests.  It moves from perception to perception, memory to memory, at a seemingly constant rate,  This is our perception of time: one memory to the next, incesantly.  The cursor never rests; it moves constantly.  When something, a memory, is perceived, the cursor is on to the next one before we can even be fully aware of what was perceived just a half a second ago.