"This third planet in this solar system of this universe has hot regions where more tears than rain fall, and I am sorry. Sorry about all the tears I have caused to fall. Sorry that words cannot always explain. Not even when one uses one's hands to explain...
That I have forgotten money indeed grows on trees. That not everybody can understand that our universe is but only a knot in a telephone post on the dusty road of the cosmos. That this solar system is but one cell in a larger body, a larger body that in turn is but a cell in one of the knots in the next telephone post. Like the red-and-white picture of the Royal yeast tin in the red-and-white picture of the Royal yeast tin in the red-and-white picture of the Royal yeast tin...Like the uncountable cells in our bodies, every cell a solar system with the same simple laws. Like the uncountable worlds in every teardrop. That time, like money, is calculated by man. That one can relive future lives now. That one can experience past ones again, now at will. That all of us are one, somewhere. That we will meet ourselves somewhere....That the answer is never the same twice, except in primary school sums. That figures are the only thing that we people could get right, almost. That minus one is yesterday, and plus one is tomorrow, but that "now" is nil: the number that is not necessary. Was not necessary until money and taxes came about...That it is only necessary to make one's nil point the speed of light, and then one can move up and down the timeline. Discover the dinosaur in your garden today that you created this morning one hundred and eighty-four million years ago. That we are sitting on a cell that rolls out and shrinks in at speed with the telephone posts past the telephone posts..."
That I have forgotten money indeed grows on trees. That not everybody can understand that our universe is but only a knot in a telephone post on the dusty road of the cosmos. That this solar system is but one cell in a larger body, a larger body that in turn is but a cell in one of the knots in the next telephone post. Like the red-and-white picture of the Royal yeast tin in the red-and-white picture of the Royal yeast tin in the red-and-white picture of the Royal yeast tin...Like the uncountable cells in our bodies, every cell a solar system with the same simple laws. Like the uncountable worlds in every teardrop. That time, like money, is calculated by man. That one can relive future lives now. That one can experience past ones again, now at will. That all of us are one, somewhere. That we will meet ourselves somewhere....That the answer is never the same twice, except in primary school sums. That figures are the only thing that we people could get right, almost. That minus one is yesterday, and plus one is tomorrow, but that "now" is nil: the number that is not necessary. Was not necessary until money and taxes came about...That it is only necessary to make one's nil point the speed of light, and then one can move up and down the timeline. Discover the dinosaur in your garden today that you created this morning one hundred and eighty-four million years ago. That we are sitting on a cell that rolls out and shrinks in at speed with the telephone posts past the telephone posts..."
-Johann Wentzel, "Where Is My Tickey?"
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