Tuesday, September 26

It's impossible to encapsulate the past. The past took up as much time as all the future will. Its moments can only be paired off against the moments trickling past us now, aligned in Cantor fashion.

And still, the fish swim, knowing they need air and food.
And still, the lizard on the rock warms his blood to survive.
And here am I. What am I?

I'm only the observer.

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