The Paradigm of Time

Time, a quantity that is undisclosed, a subtle difference in the fabric of space, a rubric of consternation. People worry about time, what time is it, what time of day is it, what time do I have to be there, will I be on time. The clock on the wall, always dictating the terms, always there, constant as the Northern star, a circle that reminds everyone of the circular motion of the planet, undisclosed, unseen, always there, always constant. Time is of the essence, they said what he wrote just before he wrote it, were they on time, they had or have their software, the difference in time between the actual thought that is thought and then read, subtle seconds of difference between the actual thought and the reading of the thought by the computer, dirty little Ian, a brain dead moron whose main thrust, so to speak, was to fuck everyone over just before they did it to themselves, aided by a justification of senseless moronic invective. Time, that sen=seless observation of the passage of an imaginary event, is there time, where did it come from, what does it mean, who cares if I am indeed 2 minutes late, what is late, late for what, the grave, for Lunch, for my very unimportant luncheon meeting, always on time, what time, whose time, and where did you get the time, whose time is it anyway, is it my time, is it your time, to shine. When born, the timepiece installed on the fourth day, why the fourth, the Fourth of July, the time of the seasons, is it time for a change, time to get a’ movin’.

I looked at the time on the wall, why was it on the wall, why was it not on the floor, why did I have to look up to time, my observations, was it time to do so, was I late, was he on time, was she on time. 369, the penultimate timepiece, time everything so that it fits in with the workings of the universe, the Paradigm of the 369, Tesla, Einstein, Bacon and the fat pigs of the sundry and the callous observations of the passing of time. 48 years to move with the times, never late, always on time, got it, he said to himself, yes that works, always fitted in with the 369, look at the clock, add up the numbers, they add up to a 3, 6, or 9, 3, the basis of the universe, 6 the number of the beast, 666, 6 protons, 6 neutrons, 6 electrons, the basis for all carbon life forms, just about, 9, the number of completion, the number 9, number 9, as the crawling insects stated, Paul is dead, number 9.