Well, of course I’m in time, a narrative informing me gradually.

Yet aspects of narrative hint to forget about drama, forget about story, forget about causation, and hurry up and stop being in the past or future. Splat. Sometimes. Splat sometimes, and splat is a way better surfer or lover than someone who is living or about to die than we can create. Splat is a timeless now, and there you go. We don’t have time to interpret splat or become spat or explain splat. Or grieve splat.

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