Mole
Permabanned
- Joined
- Mar 20, 2008
- Messages
- 20,282
There are four dimensions: length, breadth, depth, and time. And I have discovered another dimension, it's a bit like looking in the back of the wardrobe and finding a doorway to another world. And the fifth dimension is writing. It's at right angles to the other four dimensions including time, for when I write time disappears, I don't know where it goes, anymore than I know where my mind goes when I am absent minded.
I am grateful for the fifth dimension possibly because I have become bored with only four dimensions. And the fifth dimension is strange, it is also tactile, it is as though I can move around the other dimensions by touch. I can feel it now and I leap to meet it, it likes to move, it likes to dance, it likes to breathe, it might even like to swim in an ocean pool.
Of course it is a hidden dimension, not readily visible, and usually highly controlled, it is almost as though we might drown in print. But be warned: when they first teach you to read, they never tell you, you won't be able to stop. You've been suckered and now it passes beyond understanding.
It is like an old friend, like an imaginary friend, a friend with joie de vivre and good sense. Far too good for me, you might say, and how can I do anything else, but agree.
I am grateful for the fifth dimension possibly because I have become bored with only four dimensions. And the fifth dimension is strange, it is also tactile, it is as though I can move around the other dimensions by touch. I can feel it now and I leap to meet it, it likes to move, it likes to dance, it likes to breathe, it might even like to swim in an ocean pool.
Of course it is a hidden dimension, not readily visible, and usually highly controlled, it is almost as though we might drown in print. But be warned: when they first teach you to read, they never tell you, you won't be able to stop. You've been suckered and now it passes beyond understanding.
It is like an old friend, like an imaginary friend, a friend with joie de vivre and good sense. Far too good for me, you might say, and how can I do anything else, but agree.