We have the most amazing chats, we do.
Tonight we talked about Time. Time and the semblance of it. Time as a creation, a manmade construction – i pointed out as i thought about the Daylight Saving Time. Time as malleable, shifting, changing if we all agree. Time as a provision for structure.
She pointed out the existence of the sundial, how even if Time and its Hours – 1 o’clock, 2 o’clock – ceased to exist, there would still be Time. Because of Daytime, and Nighttime, we would know of Time’s passing (shadows), and to do as according to what Day/Night- time suggests.
Then as we walked along the roads of the University with quiet raindrops and a dark path ahead, we wondered what if Daytime and Nighttime ceased to exist. Picturing an Eternal Nighttime,
‘life would be bleak, dark, meaningless, an endless vortex of sorts’
we wouldn’t know of Time’s passing, we would walk on endlessly. We wouldn’t go for lectures (even if someone waves a torch for every lecture slot, we wouldn’t have time to prepare – we wouldn’t know of Time’s passing – five minutes, ten), we wouldn’t be able to meet people, we wouldn’t know what we’re doing, what to do, except that we’re walking, walking and slowly crinkling and growing old…
Sometimes walking with Helen is so poetic it feels like something out of a book. I don’t know if it’s just… her, or is this the way people in the UK / British speak? Sentences that jump straight from a book, a film I’ve watched before. The things we do – sitting on the bench under the rain, linking arms and getting lost just for the sake of it, lying under an autumn tree, racing along the grass patch in the night, stargazing, …
‘…You can step into the same river, but you cannot step into the same water’.