Pic of the day: This may just be me, but I tend to think of the universe...
Life, The Universe and ...
This may be just me, but I tend to think of the universe as a 4-dimensional hypersphere with time as the radial dimension. I also wish it could be 1998 forever, and I'm sick with a sore throat. But let's take things in order here.
The universe and everything: If you want to visualize it (at your own risk), just remove any one of the normal 3 dimensions and look at the universe as a really big ball. The surface is today. The center is the time of Big Bang. From there on, time expands outwards, and the other dimensions stretch accordingly, creating the now famous cosmic expansion. Neat, huh?
The best thing about this is that it no longer makes sense to think of a time before the Big Bang. Asking "What was before the Big Bang?" is like asking "What is further in from the center of a ball?" The answer is simply that you can't go further in that direction. Not because there is a barrier or something, but because you simply can't. It's not that there is no more in that direction, there simply is no more direction in that direction. And there simply is no more time before time begins.
I don't take vacations. I considered writing another violet entry, "man without vacation", but I considered against it at least for now. Actually I do take a couple days off now and again to rest or to visit a friend. But I don't go the tourist thing.
It's funny, but I've never been outside Norway. Actually I've not been in half of Norway even. I simply don't do touristing. I hear people who consider it very important to travel to faraway places. It's a kind of mind expanding experience, I understand. That's fine by me, but my mind exploded years ago - like the Big Bang, only not quite as big - and the shards are still expanding outwards, thank you very much. I don't need to smell the smells of Nashville or Kuala Lumpur. In fact, I haven't smelled even a fraction of the smells for sale in the nearest perfume shop. I haven't seen all the trees in the forest outside my window. And I don't like new things. I don't like change.
In fact, I wish it could be 1998 for all eternity.
1998 was a good year. I may be older and wiser now, but also a bit sadder. I'd like to go back to 1998. I know 1998 is in there somewhere, just a little bit in towards the center of the universe. But like all the other ants, I'm confined on the surface and there's no way in. There's no way back. I may eventually forget what I have learned, but I will only be demented, not restored to who I once was. If people ask me, "Are you saved?" I reply "Yes, but will I be restored?" I hope so. But I'm not going to be restored to 1998, that's pretty certain.
Of course, I just may have decided in retrospect that 2000 was after all better, and may now be re-living it for Light knows which time - perpetually looping back. I would never know, since resetting my memories would be an essential part of it. Actually, we never know for sure. But I seriously doubt it.
I'm on sick leave today and probably tomorrow. I have a sore throat, and have eaten vitamins and peppermint pills. Besides, I've (as usual) eaten yoghurt, and cooked my favorite pasta dinner. (With cheese, no meat.) I have thought that I could save a bit of money by not working, since my ordinary working hours tend to be when I am hungry. If I could stay at home and make my extremely affordable but tasty dinner, I could probably shave off quite a bit of my food expenses. But staying at home is not really an alternative as long as I can work, or at least can work most of the time.
I may be a bit Biblical about work. You know, in Genesis the Lord curses Adam with work, and that's how I still see it. Work is a punishment from above, a curse and a pest on mankind. If I were allowed to work with something I really like, I'm sure I would grow to hate it in short order because it was work. On the other hand, if I didn't have work, I would probably miss it.
When I came back to the farm where I grew up, after nearly five years at schools, I found that I actually liked the farm work. I loved being able to work with my body while my mind was roaming free, and I loved being able to sing and whistle without disturbing anyone. It turned out that I was allergic to some of the essential stuff on the farm, so I had to leave. And left I have, thoroughly too. But I wonder ... was it fun to work on the farm simply because I knew that I did not have to, and would probably not be able to? If it had been work, would I have hated it?
I'll never know. The things that might have happened are not along the time axis of this universe. There may be other dimensions, other universes, and perhaps in some of them the answers lie to all my "what ifs". But I'll never know as long as I stay in this universe - and I intend to hang on as long as I possibly can.
Visit the Diary Farm for the older diaries I've put out to pasture.