This is a vivid daydreaming I once had. My thoughts are usually more verbal (sometimes I’m verbal ’till I don’t know what to do), but I also happen to visualize concepts in the shape of plastic images now and them. In conscious life, I am also quite good at manufacturing this kind of images as examples to make my point, so I must be a bit of a moralist, I’m afraid. The vision:
Space. The area is a huge corridor delimited by two enormous walls of stone. We all are falling in slow motion, like in those films about parachutists where everything looks so slow, almost immobile, due to the lack of a steady point of reference (to do those films the camera must be falling too, I guess, so relative speed between the one who films and the one filmed is zero).
The same as parachutists, we are falling, but no parachute will open at the end of the journey. In fact, nobody knows what is it like at the end of the journey, because none of us has been there before. As a sort of compensation for not having a parachute, we have some extra time, a greater capability of movement, and there is no wind shaking our clothes. Everything is quiet and normal, except for those moments when someone starts to sing or some people hold some temporary quarrel now and then.
Our enhanced capability of movement also allows us to combine our strengths. We pay visit to our neighbors. We fall in love. We work together. Some people have trained themselves to create groups in quite an artistic way, and it is beautiful to watch those huge structures, the speed and accuracy of their movements and their capability to reach objects or lift weights that would be impossible to bear for any of them on their own. Their aerodynamics is so perfect that you would almost think that they are not falling at all. But of course they do. Everybody does.
Enjoy the ride.
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