The Teatime Of Infinity
"Whoa," is all he can manage to say. Time seems to be irrelevant now.
It's as if he is...underwater? Ten years go by in five seconds.
Five seconds go by in ten years. His entire life seems to be summed up in one word: Just another brick in the wall...
Hey, wait just one damn minute! That's like...ten words or something! What's going on here!? Where am I!? Who are you!? What is this!? You are Will.
Who is Will!? Will is no one and everyone. Ego is nothing. Will is the Universe. The Universe is Will.
It is at this point that Will found himself in a pristine meadow, and indeed, in the past tense once again. It was a familiar place. In fact, it was the earliest memory he had. Such a beautiful memory, mere filthy mortal words cannot do it justice. Shakespeare himself could not even begin to craft the words necessary to explain this unique location in space and time. It was a memory he had of a place...just before birth? Or perhaps a time just after. It was so hard to discern between the two now...
That is... It was so hard to discern between that which was 'real' and 'unreal' or that which occurred 'during life' or that which occurred 'before' or 'after'.
He was toberly sober. Soberly tober. Tober sober. Where's the lober, Mr. Mober? "This guy's lost it," declared one of the twelve gods. "I say we invite him to the tea party!!!"
It's as if he is...underwater? Ten years go by in five seconds.
Five seconds go by in ten years. His entire life seems to be summed up in one word: Just another brick in the wall...
Hey, wait just one damn minute! That's like...ten words or something! What's going on here!? Where am I!? Who are you!? What is this!? You are Will.
Who is Will!? Will is no one and everyone. Ego is nothing. Will is the Universe. The Universe is Will.
It is at this point that Will found himself in a pristine meadow, and indeed, in the past tense once again. It was a familiar place. In fact, it was the earliest memory he had. Such a beautiful memory, mere filthy mortal words cannot do it justice. Shakespeare himself could not even begin to craft the words necessary to explain this unique location in space and time. It was a memory he had of a place...just before birth? Or perhaps a time just after. It was so hard to discern between the two now...
That is... It was so hard to discern between that which was 'real' and 'unreal' or that which occurred 'during life' or that which occurred 'before' or 'after'.
He was toberly sober. Soberly tober. Tober sober. Where's the lober, Mr. Mober? "This guy's lost it," declared one of the twelve gods. "I say we invite him to the tea party!!!"