Just smell the all nighters, the stress in the air, and the ever increasing urge to fall down a stairwell.
Also Christmas.
(same thing).
I'm extremely worried, as tomorrow is both my math AND chemistry final.
(I'll just be in a coma over here... maybe they'd excuse me from the tests?)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAND on TOP of all that, IM SICK.
Not in the okay-ish sick, but in the 'cough your lungs up every few minutes especially when you're trying to sleep/ take a test in a completely silent room/ talking to that girl you really like.
And yet, I go to school, several times being legitimately worried that I'll throw up.
Because exams.
And the fun thing is, realistically about 1/6 of the whole school is sick as well, but like me, are showing up for school to take exams, and thus making even MORE people sick.
Very convenient time for a bug to be going around.... satan? is that you?
~
In other news, I spent time I was supposed to be studying to write down an existential crisis I am currently having about my theory of time, and then managed to link it to a metaphor about pancakes.
I will post it at the bottom if you are curious.
That's how my brain works.
Have fun.
(can I just turn that in instead of my tests?)
Speaking of procrastinating, I also took ALL the books off of my four bookcases, and then organized them by color.
Why, you ask?
Because I didn't want to study of course.
Also, me being the idiot I am, I chose this particular time to start watching danisnotonfire and amazingphil on youtube, which of course, I am not addicted to.
Point is, in one of Dan's videos, he talks about how he walks around muttering to himself without realizing it.
And that was the moment that I realized I do the exact same thing.
I just zone out whenever I'm cleaning my room or organizing books or just wandering around, muttering to myself, barely aware of what i'm doing.
A+ work there, Sophie.
AND NOW, TIME:
(I'm warning you now, this goes all. over. the. place.)
Moment
one: Time
The way time moves is perhaps one of
the greatest mysteries that we will likely never solve. We can unravel the
secrets of the universe, but time will undoubtedly be the biggest question that
is taken for granted.
Just the fact that scientists today
have developed a legitimate theory of there being an opposite universe where
time moves backwards only complicates it more. Humans have never experienced
anything but the travel of time that we have today, and cannot even grasp the
full meaning, much less imagine what it would feel like, to have the
progression of time be backwards. That universe would have started at what
would be our final destruction of the universe, but where in our world it means
that everything, even empty space and blackness, cease to exist, to this other
world, it means the spawning of the beginnings of their universe, ending at
what would have been our creation, the big bang. Does every person that ever
exist to them slowly form from the earth into corpses, rise fully grown into
the world, already married and with children, only to go backwards to
childhood, ending with them being sucked into their mothers and slowly
devolving into nothingness in her womb?
Just thinking about the concept of
something like this is enough to drive anyone mad, or at least sit there
staring up at the sky for a few minutes, trying to picture what it must have
been like. But because they have never experienced our world where life begins
at infancy instead of ending, they are confused at what a backwards world we
must have.
In my personal opinion however, time
has already happened. From the start of everything to the end, every second has
been compressed into a tiny sliver. You only go to a place once, but every
memory you have of this place is there all at the same time.
For example, say you enter your
bedroom: you have been in this room thousands of times before to your memory,
but really, every single time you have been there and will ever be there is
with you at the same time; from the first time you set foot there to the last
time you leave, you have only existed there once, one moment in this room,
compressed together to form your memory of it.
You can remember being in the room
before, and so can vaguely imagine the thousands of you in the room at the same
time, hidden from each other by only your memory.
cannot, however, see how many more times you
will be in the room. You could set foot there thousands more times, or perhaps
this is the last time you will ever be in it without knowing that when you
leave, you may die and never know that was the last part of yourself, the last
tiny memory that ends every version of yourself in that room.
But that has already happened. You
are likely somewhere in the middle right now, surrounded unconsciously by every
time you have ever been there, and will ever be there, down to the very end.
Right now there is layer upon layer of yourself, sitting right where you are
now, separated only by the fact that your mind cannot comprehend yourself.
The only possible metaphor that
comes to mind is that you are a pancake. There is currently a stack of
pancakes, thousands high, all around you, stacked higher over where you
regularly sit or sleep. This is your timeline. Now compress all of those
pancakes down until they are only a tiny sliver, barely large enough to see.
All the pancakes have been squished together, forming a single large, almost
invisible pancake. But to each separate pancake, it is still its own individual
pancake, sitting by itself. It cannot see the other pancakes around it, how
they are all melded together into a single layer. In its tiny pancake brain, it
believes that it is moving through time by itself, when in reality, what is
happening is that the pancake’s conscience awareness of ‘now’ is hopping from
pancake to pancake, slowly working its way up to the top of the huge layer of
pancakes, until it will cease to exist in that one place where the layer has
been pressed together. Every pancake is there all at once, but the pancake can
only see the moment of ‘right now’, and so cannot see that it is existing at
the same time with all the thousands of pancakes melded to it.
Now take the pancake layer, and
apply it to every place the pancake has been. Some places it has visited only
once, and so will only have one form on consciousness there. Other places it
has been to every day of its life, and so is tens of thousands of pancakes
thick.
This has been your daily existential
pancake metaphor of the day.
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