The uselessness of time travel

Time is relative and hardly worth our energy. Time travel’s even worse because there’s way too much second guessing and way too much haggling over details. They keep telling me to live in the moment to stay in the moment and then tempt with time machines and spacial distortions, luring me to float through space and be devoid of thought, examining the issues and punching the pink-white underbelly.

I am told to not have expectations on who I am or at least not the expectations that came from my unruly childhood. They make me want a ray gun or a sonic blast, I want to sprinkle pixie dust and make the whole world vanish. I see endless space and the event horizon of the most insidiously hidden black holes – this is swirling infinity, these are twisting spirals of broken planets and scalded moons with desperate astronauts plugging golf clubs and stabbing flags into moon dust.

I don’t have any need for love, I don’t have oxygen to share, I’m Pickens-riding towards Earth on a rocket to end it all and I’m in the middle of two separate times, stuck. I can’t see the time, the effort and the energy I am suppose to be in..everything is off kilter by a smidge and this is the mathematical term. I don’t know what should be done. I am not a unique snowflake. The Universe is cold and lonely but remains out there, round and alive. These are my assumptions now, my childhood rules have finally burned out.

Time stood still when I focused. My voice trailed off but, you couldn’t have heard me anyway.

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