The abstraction I had intuited reasonably was that within this world everything that had existed did still exist and would exist again in a different form, while different people I met were, to a certain degree, people, past, present and future, combined in varying proportion, walking, breathing, buying things, subject to biological laws. But, on another level, they were other, how you say, beings, mental forms from a platonic dimension whose content was ethereal (and determined by what is commonly referred to as the Law).
Everything I saw, everything I read, everywhere I went there was a metaphor and a door open. If I stepped through I could proceed, even though my life would resemble a flat stretched out sidelined grape. I had packed a lunch earlier and was thinking but never thought those thoughts would find pathways on which I could travel through time. There wasn't much space at the moment so I couldn't stop climbing, falling, revolving, standing. I had a washed away tide and a tethered toenail in mind. For the spring.
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