It's all just an event. There's no places or objects, and as documented a century ago there is no such thing as time. As defined in a previous dementia, space is just an intersection of energy and imagination. So what are you left with? You've got this life with all these knobs and levers but you just can't be sure what you're activating and what you're incinerating.

All you're trying to do is fabricate a reliable system of measurement. There is no standard metric for duration obstacles, yet. When I invented the term 'duration obstacles' I meant for it to be interpreted. It's supposed to be a phrase that correlates to the action that builds through your relationship with time. Don't accept it if you don't consider it an adequate description of what happens to you tomorrow. Push. You know that every rock or pile of rocks endured the same evolutionary baptization as your proud flesh. But, here you are, selling rocks made of gold at prices you should be paying rock stars. At the same time you don't have any problems kick-walking across a desert of casual crumble chunks.

Think about the last handshake you distributed. That should have been the very definition of unprejudiced verification of tri-dimensional linear accountability. You probably even made a silent count of the dimensions you were touching. One for up. One for horizontal. One for abrasion. And one for the energy required to extend your life for the two seconds that it required. But, again, here you are, four hours after the handshake occurred not believing that it had an ounce of spatiality. Forget three and one abstracts worth of input. All you are left with is a portrait. All you are left with is an event.

The present is supposed to feel different. That's why it does. I don't want to say that the present is really the 'ignored future,' but what else could it be. It certainly isn't the past. And if it was the anticipated future you couldn't know that it was actually so brilliantly vivid and subtly orange in hue. It's not as tragic as all that, but you, literally, just don't have time for the present. So you are forced to ignore the only claim you ever had at a substantial existence. Not such a big deal if you love reading history books and hate politics (LIKE I DO).

Without a residual stake in time, you humans are left as nothing more than occurrences. I can't imagine a more noble function. You're not a process to be used. You're not an ecology to be evolved. You're not an opinion to be debated. You are an event to be observed by the eye of the dark matter paradise that patrols the everything.