A Blog by Virgilio Rivas

Imagine This

Imagine this: we pause to pause for the absolute experience of time where lies the secret of all.

If we pause for a while, and assume that by allowing a moment of void to let itself be experienced, which already indicates that a void is not a void—it can be experienced one way or another—we are pausing to think in order to accommodate a void, such as the voidal moment of thinking in and through a recess, are we then assuming that a ‘pause’ is an actual pause, in which case an actual thinking-pause? If I say that I paused already, here and now…would you mind the pause or ignore what comes next after the ellipsis? Would you believe me? Would you believe me when I said that I paused already, and it is entirely up to you to believe whether I did pause or not?

Or, is it entirely up to me to convince you that I did pause? Do I need to declare a secret? That I barely remember when I did pause. But I have to believe that you know that for me to begin writing the first word of this paragraph, a pause must precede me…

A void must have been there already.
It’s not entirely up to me.
That seems obvious now.

But not so obvious as to see it without seeing it which is what ‘obvious’ means in the absolute sense. You don’t need to mind it; you don’t need to look at it; you don’t have to see it, in which case the ‘nothing’ is the most obvious case. Nevertheless, our minds are not accustomed to see just that—to see nothing in its most obvious sense. Imagine this: you can’t see my pause even if I did pause. You can’t allow the thought that what I have written so far are pauses that pause, pauses that make possible a continuity which is a more refined name for a breather. To pause is to take time. And there’s the ultimate paradox: time is nothing to be seen.

It’s not in your timepiece, digital or analog. It’s there but not there. It’s here but not here. It’s unassumable except for time’s mysterious founding of itself. I don’t suppose you to be an unbeliever of time. No one (alive, that is a living human) is capable of disbelief in time. But even the dead have it, and they have it in the most perfect way of having it, that is, absolutely as an eternal possession. Only the dead can possess time. They alone can have time in the most accomplished sense, that is to say, unrepeatable, unique, irreversible.

In any case, time still functions as a bridge between the living and the dead. Without time, there would be no dead, the dead that constitutes the utmost possibility of life that in life pauses for the dead. The dead do not pause for us for they could not pause in the sense of preparing to make a motion: to pause is to be in a situation of capability, and capability is life’s wanting to achieve a pause.(Life without pause is reserved for the gods whose lack of economy does not deserve the envy of the human). The dead could not take time for time has owned them absolutely, in which case we, the living, have not been owned yet. It is always up to us to mind time, to take time, and to make time for life, that is to say, to pause for the dead that alone knows the secret of time.

And yet, time does not mind.
It does not have a mind for it to learn to pause.
There is nothing that prevents time to be the envy of being. Time not ‘god’ is the envy of Man.

But ‘God’—where are you hiding?
The question can only come after a pause.
After a pause comes the decision to ignore what one had found, such as a secret.

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