It is hard to tell where something went if it was never here, if it was
never yours. There is Mother Earth and there must be Mother Time. After a
certain year, everything goes in a rush, the years are rushed and I am sure I
have been robbed of something. But who can rob me of what I have not bought or
created?
To be Bergson and to lose yourself in the other dimension of time. To
meditate, close your eyes, open them and all is different. Are we really at the
mercy of all if in our dreams we can be anything, go anywhere, fly much further
than the spheres of space and time?
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