"the world gets better", fast forward, "heaven" is your narrative horizon
"the world gets worse", fast forward, "hell" is your narrative horizon
"the world is a process", time gets *extremely* slippery here, the world is its own narrative horizon, like a Simpsons episode putting its own context back where you found it
"the world changes", time is no longer a stable concept, have fun
(I think that last one might be why Borges saw heaven as a library. fast forward, a-path-to-anything-and-back is your narrative horizon)
remember remember remember, a language developed within the territory can't locate the territory until the language achieves escape velocity - at which point it is of itself, and not of the territory. but! common ancestry, spatial primitives - which *means*, earth-creature, that the language of your emotion describes a topology of inference as physical as your earth
e-motion, if you will (I'm so sorry), and you have neighbors there just the same as any other three-space
"time" might be the solving function for synchronizing the triangulation of thought and emotion and body, the arrow of it advancing with each interval of drift and resync. to feel *this* about *this* idea in *this* place, what time should it be?
"self" is a spatial technology. speaking as an autistic human: taking that framing seriously makes life electric, it's raw emergence, and it is thought-/feel-/body-compatible with everyone else. I've tested the shit out of this, and I live here full-time. treating everything as shapes *works* here, and I don't know how to tell you what shape I am or what time it should be, but I know how to move, i.e. there aren't *that* many stable macrostates for me to choose from here. I am a unique but well-formed chess piece, which means you can string your microstates through me without conflict, and neither of us will be able to tell our realities apart.