Is it strange that, shall we say, when the weather turns inclement,
we retreat “inside” to get “out of” it?
There’s a greater meaning here, I’m sure of it.
We come in to get out of the cold. We come in—and thus—out of the blizzard, et cetera.
Though when we must venture forth, we go out; we go into “it.”
And we are in “it,” even though we are now out.
Out, and now In “it.” Simultaneously.
Like, there is a strange and wonderful ubiquity and sameness,
in the interplay of these binary terms,
of these Ones and Zeros,
of in and out.
Which probably, then, means everything and nothing all at once.
But, irrespectively, “it” means something concrete.
Though what “it” is, exactly, remains, it would seem, regrettably intangible.
And so Meaning is only fixed, insomuch as the continuum on which it lies,
it is, in reality, a Möbius Strip,
rather than a linear time-line that terminates at two ends.
∞ rather than |—–*———-|
You are here.
Or so it seems.