self-consistent histories

Late, by myself, in the boat of myself,

no light and no land anywhere,

cloudcover thick. I try to stay

just above the surface,

yet I’m already under

and living with the ocean. – Jalal ad-Din Rumi

Is it enough to know that the past continues,
unhindered by current circumstances?

Me at my desk, creating input specs, has no
bearing on me at another desk, writing about
Walt Whitman.

The writing continues.
The pen in motion stays in motion. But
I’m troubled by the notion of
calculable continuity even as I am
comforted by the idea
that right now, and yet not right now,

our bodies ricochet and carom.

I am not interested in
a change of outcome, or retro-causality.
What I want to know is that it’s still there
if I need to visit.

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