Waiting
The joy of waiting on stations is that you realise that no matter how anxious you get waiting, Time will fix everything.
You may have 120 minutes to go, but there comes a time when you have only 12 minutes left.
And it does not end there.
Time moves on.
Beyond T-1. It goes on till you are stuck again.
It’s the same time that you stopped feeling anxious about.
But it is back again.
As if it is a thread connecting your memories all together.
At Least the ones that you cared to remember.
Then why do we measure time? Isn’t it the ether that binds the universe together? The only thing that can change your story, if you begin to play with it.
If you begin to alter it.
All that talk about parallel dimensions is maybe that they are a part of the same universe.
Maybe they are crests, and troughs of the waves.
Like mountains, and valleys, that exist seamlessly.
That seem to be from another universe because we are not watching from above the waves.
Maybe the laws of physics are like people, or cultures from different parts of the same world.
They exist, but we fail to see them for what they are, only because we did not see them through a lens: that they are all part of the same thing.