eLeCTRIC PENCILS

I don’t know if creeping death is even a real thing. For that matter, I don’t know if John is even a real thing or if real things are really even real things and so on. The point I’m trying to make though is about time travel, and the only two things you actually need to be successful, will and belief. No, not a wormhole or a spiffy Delorean. But what about science, you say? And I say, yes, what about science?

What you have to keep in mind is that science, much like religion and nutrition, are only guesses. But there are methods and tests? Yes, this is true, but the validity of those methods and tests are only defined by people, and not to speak disparagingly of my species, but it’s pretty evident that people are full of shit. They will offer you solutions that, in the grand scheme of things, have no basis in any cosmic truth. I mean to say, that is, that when a scientist declares, “Here is my theory!” that the universe doesn’t nod approvingly and say “Yes, that’s correct. Well done.”

The point of this is to forget what you know, if what you know is convoluted platitudes dispensed by well-spoken ignoramuses.

No, all you need is will and belief.

I believe I can transcend time. I have the will to achieve it. I’m just working out the glitches. It is a process. A meditation. I will find myself, in particular moments, feeling as if I’m in another particular moment, usually in the past, as the past is more familiar and I can pay more attention to detail. Is it nostalgia? Is it deja vu? At first, I thought those were viable explanations for what I was feeling, but I began exploring those moments until those moments seemed tangible, a breeze, a smell, a feeling. Very small things, but when one is working on a task of such magnitude, it’s best to smart small, lay the foundation and then build to the ultimate resolution. This resolution being “present” me existing in a moment from my past, and then a longer moment, and then permanently in the past.

Think of it this way: time is a giant slide, like the kind you might find in any schoolyard or city park. Your life begins at the top of the slide and you quickly jettison toward the bottom, dying when your feet touches the ground. But think back to your childhood of that particular kid who would splay his arms and legs, struggling to stop the plunge and scrambling back to the top of the slide to ride down again.

I am that child, now a man, trying my best to climb back up the slide…