tisthisshititisithits. and it all makes sense. but then it doesn't.

Work at six. four nineteen pm square. four twenty in a few seconds. work at six. call at six, I might call you, I might harass you, you might want to answer what I have to ask you, or you might not. It is the second day I have walked on these streets and found condom boxes lying around. For no reason. And every girl becomes a muse. And how about that little guy on the wall tagging everyone as being blue, has he not looked at himself? It doesn't matter, I said. One uses the sugar from the gum drop when one wants to make the gum drop. Gee might help out in spiking it with some white wine (white so it won't change the color of the gum drops).
It'll taste like horseradish, though. Four twenty three and I must work at six. At least I am working now. Before, when I didn't work, I constantly said I needed to work. So now that I work, I say I must work, because I must work, and because I am fortunate to work. I do have a light idea about the constants of this universe and how there must be an alien in Q whose name is Wokr, but wants to be renamed as John and marry a Mary from Kansas City, Kansas. What about the dudes that walk buy and harass people with looks. What about me. What about you. The better question is why, and to shut up for an answer. That's how you take it all in, without making a fuss. Same with medicine. Suck it up. Faces wander here and there- some could have come from the future but we wouldn't know because they would go into rehab after being caught around naked and they would be merged into society and go through pre-med and med and become doctors and then exchange the babies with babies from the future who believe they belong to the present. And they eat stuff like brussel sprouts at age nine because they like the bitterness of it all, and they hate the ocean because they hate all salt in general, just like the paramecium in their little big world who do not like sugar.
On a more serious note. I was born on Feb. 10, 1985. I invent a time-machine on March 23, 2041. If I move in the future, would I find anyone around? Would I land anywhere? Is the world built on the second it exists? Mmmh... Time and Place are dimensions. They follow no pattern. Linearity is not a property of time, we just happen to perceive it as such. Moving in the future, twenty years from the present, would mean it would take me less than twenty years to achieve that place in time on the same Space, I would be exempt of aging the twenty years everyone around would have aged at my arrival. (i just saw an intimidating woman) Some people, who probably have no idea of what they are talking about (like myself), say one must move faster than light in order to move in time. You move faster than light and move in darkness. How is matter affected by time. Where does matter stand in the fabric of time. I guess the machine would revolve on one static space, faster than light. To the senses, the machine would disappear, for it can only sense light. Anything faster than light cannot be seen. But how does one inside the machine relate to time? Does one move one piece of time from where once stood to the place in which it falls in the future? Do say there is no time within the ship is redundant.
if light relates to speed, how does speed relate to matter? If one moved faster than light, would one move faster than what makes up matter, and does move within free space? So many questions...

And if one travelled to the past, can one die before one is born? What assures that one who dies before he is born is born in the future? Does it go to say births are determined and unchangeable? Who is born is born is born is born. BORN. Hume, I believe, said something really interesting. He said that even if one could see the future, one would not be able to change it, because any change would eventually lead up to that point which one tried to change, for example, if one sees a day in life in five years, and to contradict this kills oneself tomorrow, it is false that one saw a day in life in five years, because one would be dead before that instant.

Conclusion. Humans will give up trying to build a time machine before they build one.

Peace and love,
and the realization of existence,
your brown narrator.