This is my first ever post on Reality Sandwich...

And my first ever evening on Reality Sandwich. To be honest, my mind is blown, in so many ways. I'm impressed, skeptical, inspired and confused. And I'm also not sure what you talk about here in these bizarre, intriguing forums. 

Anyway, I thought that the 'dimensional shift' was the most appropriate sounding forum for what I wanted to say, as I often have these insanely clarifying moments where I'm certain that there is no time. And by this, I don't mean that man-made time doesn't really exist (which it doesn't, as it's a man-made system for us to function by) but that all moments are existent at once, there is no linear path of time. The reason I can't describe this articulately is that after these clarifying moments, the clarity and the sense slips away from me entirely.

 I wrote something earlier, before I had discovered RS, about an evening I remember really well. I hadn't yet met the 'man of my dreams' but he was linked to that evening... and I can't help but think about the strangeness of time when I think about that night. Here it is... it's not written the way it is to be 'pretentious', it just came out that way.

Warnings From Time-

One of my best friends, bouncing off the walls because of a concert that night, ricocheted down the road with plans to stalk the band before the set.

Setting up camp in vegan cafes, for no real purpose, the band would have stuck out like a sore thumb, even in those parts of town.

So that night, the man of my dreams was there. He was with his friends, he was with a girl he had met in a bar, there had been a spare ticket, now it was fate.

After the encore and the ringing in the ears had faded into a blurry recollection, there were moments in the park until dawn. I remember these as snapshots, snapshots I had imagined up when I was first told, as I was only told in fleeting glimpses.

I see two figures sitting side by side shadowed by the night, illuminated by the moon, growing cold but too young to care. I try not to imagine this night too much.

The next morning, as I was asleep, or awake, I don't remember, the man of my dreams let the girl come home with him and promptly became a man in his bedroom. The room he'd slept in all his life for a single purpose had now been reawakened, re-envisioned with new purpose.

Of course at this point I barely knew he existed. I was asleep, or awake, and then went about my day. Perhaps I felt a funny sensation in my stomach, perhaps I felt uneasy, but on so many occasions do we feel irrational sensations and dismiss them, never once contemplating if they are whispers on the backs of our necks, foreshadowing the future or merely pointing out that there is no time, and my love, though unrealised, was being violated.