It’s obvious, isn’t it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being.
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Friday, July 20, 11:09 am
Things have started getting kind of weird in my head. Time takes on a different dimension in this kind of situation: It has texture, warp and woof, I can feel the fabric sliding by, silky, smooth, and inexorable. Minutes become days, or days minutes; I have no reference, and in a way time becomes meaningless and yet the most important thing in my world. I sleep, I wake, I’m thirsty, I’m hungry, and I desperately long to know what time it is, almost with the intensity of those other physical urges. I have no realistic estimate of how long I’ve spent here, but a conservative estimate would probably come in at just between two and three millennia. After a while, it’s hard to tell when I’m awake or asleep, or if I’ve discovered some new in-between state where even wakefulness isn’t overly meaningful.