i was listening to a scientist talk about radiation. about quasars, about blazars, about gamma rays, and what he spent his life looking for. i stayed and chatted with him for an hour longer after his discussion.

you could tell he loved what he was talking about. he jumped from subject to subject. he’d discuss the destruction of stars and then turn to philosophy as a logical follow-up. my kind of guy.

“looking at these things, these stars, it’s time travel. studying these things is time travel.”

which of course sent him spinning off in the direction of einstein and time dilation.

 

but that sentence stopped me dead in my tracks. i couldn’t breathe. i didn’t hear what he said about perception, i was too busy struggling with the realization he had just plowed into me with.

i’ve said this to someone who wouldn’t judge me outwardly for saying it. but i’ll commit and say it here for potential others to see without caring. and i’ll use doctor who as an example.

 

i’m jealous.

absolutely, horribly, seethingly jealous. i am envious, i feel ripped off. cheated. i’m angry and upset and absolutely heartbroken. watching, reading, seeing things like that makes me wistful and bitter. i want that.

i want to experience things in more than one tiny way. in more than just the three dimensions and limited understanding my current physical configuration and mental capacity can hand me.

 

all of these things that make my chest expand and turn to solid, unquenchable longing have reached a point where i don’t actually think i can remain sane if it continues to happen. being teased mercilessly with these ideas and concepts has pushed me past the event horizon, and i can’t just flirt anymore. there is no escape.

unwittingly and thanks to an increasingly entropic series of events (thanks, jake), i seem to have become equipped with just enough information to prove myself completely inept at any of the things i want to be completely destroyed by.

 

as i swiped at my face on the couch with my sweater, trying to hide the evidence, the man deconstructing and then paving over my previous self-imposed limitations continued on as if he saw this every day.

 

he smiled reassuringly. almost ruefully. “sure, tons of pink-haired girls laden with unanswerable questions and an obsession with geometry come traipsing through here all the time. let me get you a pamphlet” . . .

“so… where do i start?”

“at the beginning.”

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