Evidently, I am five hours ahead of myself. I have no past but I do have a future, at least five hours from now. For some reason, when I post my blogs, the time stamp is in the future. That is of course unless I am more insane than I thought and truly reside somewhere in the UK without a clue.
This glitch started me thinking, if I do exist in the future but operate in the past, will I ever meet anyone of the 18,000 me’s in between. 18,000 seconds make up a five hour period. My mind doesn’t conceive of time segments less than a second. Could there be 18,000 versions of myself, autonomous of each other or directed by a single version five hours ahead of the rest? Pure Science Fiction, you ask? Don’t forget that my humble beginnings have no answers even under intense scrutiny. My life is a Philip K. Dick novel waiting to unravel.
Do we exit, all iterations of self glued to the pages of time’s book, at once, in linear succession, stacked atop each other or randomly scattered about like many darts thrown and connected only by the wall they are embed in? A fascinating train wreck of an idea. Time is a concept. Yet, as sentients, we move through it as if climbing up a great waterfall spilling the moments of our lives over a cliff’s edge.
I have meditated in my day. It has given me calm and clarity of thought and at moments, a feeling of living beyond time. Metaphysical hooey, no, just an experience I produce to illustrate time as experienced by me. I have written on this subject before in this forum. But at this moment, my musings drive my imagination to a stinging question … how many me’s are there?
How many you’s? And how would we even know, stacked on top of each one like Cheerios hung on a string waiting for some dimensional force to make myriad cuts allowing string and cereal to be scattered randomly about the universe?
That is the ball of yard I find myself tangled in.