4:22

Time and space are such delicate things: easily torn asunder by the forces of fate, susceptible to shifting and wavering by the slightest touch of both great and small. What is true is determined more often by the tiniest decisions of the most insignificant creature than by the supposedly insurmountable pillars of when and where.

This is not philosophy. This is not the result of fasting and flagellation in the search for truths or guidance. This is not a common belief system held together by a community of any sort. This is such a truth as to be commonly held by things spiritual and corporeal. It is a principle that exists above all disputes and below all knowledge.

And yet time is always immutable to those who cannot see, and space is the wall of that fortress that preserves for all who seek safety. All inhabitants of perception must abide by these caveats or be lost to the unordered and chaotic sea that lies beyond our perception. Except, perhaps, for those few. Those whose connection lies not within but without and whose paths have not beginnings and ending but are endless webs folded back on themselves again and again in innumerable layers. Except those whose bodies and organs and cells and whose tiny ineffable life sparks are the true definition of fantastic. Except those.