Oct 14, 2022 6 min read

Porthole

You are in a vessel, looking through a small window.

You see forms pass by in the world beyond you and register their comings and goings from inside the hull.

A whale breaches the surface and you know to call it a whale, even though you have never touched one.

Waves rock your vessel, yet no one is certain why or where they come from.

It is the feeling of a wave that you call a wave, like it is the vision of a whale that you call a whale.

You feel the waves pass through as your vision rocks and you your legs in an attempt to focus your view through the window.

When all is calm your eyes wander out in search of... something. The wide world awaits and you choose to gaze upon

The ocean changes around you as your eyes move across its vast expanse.

The rhythmic, regular lines of civilization offer a quiet consolation even as they crumble. Your eyes keep along the main roads.

Moonlight dances on the surface of the water, so you dance along with it.

Was it a choice to look at the ? It might be a mixed blessing to have free reign over what to look upon. The window out from the train of your life moves forward at the constant rate of one second per second as the scenery changes.

You watch as feelings occur. They appear no more a choice than which thoughts to have. Or where to look.

The present exists in the marriage between memory and expectation, fueled by flickering sensations.

You may not believe yourself to be a passenger, but even a train operator is bound by the tracks.

Through your journeys you have known much, seen much, felt much. Yet your time here has been so very short. Would you like to end and reveal the nature of your experience?

Your experience lasted for a total of seconds and included clicks. You chose to gaze upon the , as did % of those who came before.
Your journey is revealed, just as it has ended.