We are living in a book; Reality is a linguistic construct!
The merciless, yet illusory force that creaks into existence when the story proceeds from page to page, we have named ‘time’.
The characters in the book struggle to conceive that their entire span of life; All it’s richness and intricacy, can be seen as an object!
An object that can be apprehended in a single glance, if observed from outside ‘time’s’ enmeshing influence.
