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How Not To Time Travel: Balbir

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posted on Oct, 28 2008 @ 01:52 PM
*How Not To* Time Travel

I walk over the ground
To where I watch myself fall...
And into the house where Balbir died.
On each trip to my door.

I lay upon his spot.
And I tell him that I'm not.
That this is all I know.
That dam, to where we drove?
That there would be the place.
That there had sealed your fate.

I tell him he's my dear,
That maybe he didn't know,
That I'm glad to have been put here,
To remember his blackbeard glow..
And his funny honeypot,
Which didn't quite jiggly to and fro.

And that...
I can't say that he recalls me.
Cause only he can know.
That I'm Here for facts,
Unknown to me,
That neither do I know.

Each and Every
Single day,
I am to walk,
O'er the ground;
Acrossed to where,
I watch myself,
Maybe just die,
Upon the ground.
Before I step,
Into the house
Where Balbir,
Once had been alive,
And on the day,
That I cried,
Just after Balbir, Balbir died.

Well, it happened,
So fast you know..

And when I'm feeling lonely,
I just think there to his spot.
And there I find my focus,
That this-the lot we got.
And there I find my anger.
And there I find my spite.
Balbir near total stranger--
Yet once so maybe not.

Who perhaps,
Saw something,
Or, was asked simply to do,
A common thing-Maybe nothing,
That later,
Had him running,
From this, Them, and
The nothing.
Not knowing that he's through,

Aye, that is the lot,
The lot We got.

And I fill myself with empty.
And I fill up gentle rage.
I look to where the seas meet.
And hope they got,
Just what they gave.
I fill up good and plenty.
There's nothing else to do.
This is the spot where Balbir lived.
This Balbir man was true.

Filling up my hopeless.
Filling up my nevermores.
Testing my wonders-if-it-matters,
An it's not a thing that knowns.
Fighting my suspicions.
As if it'd make a sense,
And trying to be humble,
While I'm utterly incensed.

I can...
Sit above the floor,
Where years ago his blood,
Went spilling from his guts...
And search for Balbir's soul.

~As I hold the place,
Where Balbir died.
Not knowing,
what I'm for~

I know now that,
I were watching ME,
When She Me fell down,
Upon the ground,
My head then crashed,
A separation-like glass,
Just like before,
When My Me Me my door.

Thrice now Here,
This place again.
And there,
Where Balbir,
Laid rest on the floor.
Not knowing which trip,
Created the *This*.

As, *she* were my age
as I'm my age late,
And then *I* were four
...teen twelve maybe eight.
And then but a child,
And for crying out loud.
Where her Balbir had died!
In her head only cried.

How could anyone,
Ever Know,
Of time's hellos'
And of time's doors.
To make a sense,
Of the nonsense of,
Pirates and Clones.
And no body knowns's.

I am to fall down.
The watching girl.
Soon her head,
Will crash.
The separation-broken glass.

Will I see--
The man,
Assaulting Me Her Us.
As from Her My Our then,
Our Angle of view obstructed,
The We I She Us Me,
Are quickly done, you see?

Will I reckognize,
The same Hatred in his eyes,
In his face on that upcoming day,
What will his cheekbones say.
Will it still appear the FACE,
That I She Us Me Her, watched,
Every day, every place?

Will it be,
The same, as when I saw Me She back then?
What then will then became,
Of, Her My Our twin brain,

Will it crash,
Separation-Like Glass,
As I She Me Us,
Falls and splits up?


It'd be nice to know,
That it wasn't Me She Them.
Yet here I am, again.
And here I am again.

Having not ever left,
And Having not ever arrived.
Never missed but for a sec.
And I...
Am tickled sometimes, not to death,
To simply self assess.
Though, it's a rotten luck road.
Compared to how simply goes.

Think o're to the spot,
Balbir's life Had gone;
As I'm...
O'er my shoulders,
Not caring that,
I'm soon to be anon'd.

As there is nothing I can do,
In the way it must be done,
Unless I've already done it,
And I'm...

Waiting for,
The footsteps.
And for...
My Precious little girl,
For Her My frightened little gasp,
Not once but twice-ah lass!
Not knowing that...
Not knowing that...
Not knowing that...
Not knowing that.
I probably learned this from mum...

As I walk o'er the ground,
Where I watched myself, true,
Maybe die,
And into the house where I'd preferred,
Balbir, the sir, had stayed alive,
Each day at the moment,
The moment before,
Balbir and I had passed,
Through his door.
And before I am to go.

Me, maybe somewhere,
Just cried and then looked,
For help about what,
What no body can book.

[edit on 28-10-2008 by HugmyRek]

posted on Oct, 28 2008 @ 05:05 PM
This was, is, will be, a trip to read. Wish I you knew.
Where are you me them when Balbir dies ? Will it happen
again and again ?

posted on Oct, 28 2008 @ 08:47 PM
This isn't really well thought out. I prefer to think things out. Instead I find myself speaking *while* I'm thinking; which is a bit like handing in an equation half worked out and listing your last sqribble (sp) as the answer.

Originally posted by SIEGE
This was, is, will be, a trip to read. Wish I you knew.
Where are you me them when Balbir dies ? Will it happen
again and again ?

And thanks... (traditionally I haven't been the safest person to know-I'm not even very cool, and have few redeeming qualities).
(see below)
*edit* Oh!! Read that backwards.
Wish you I knew, too, maybe, and perhaps. To know you, I'd have to have known you and have known you far in advance. To even decide that I knew you and how could I know if I knew, without knowing you, you seem to not know me, rather to know that I'm not knowing you.
You read that? (hands aspirin)
crazy talk
(which it?) Me meeting myself or Balbir dying?
Where were you?
Well, I was getting out of the car and following his perp, so, about in the hallway when I watched one shoot the other. It was just me-me. We had driven up from somewhere.

Does it happen over and over?
Balbir never went travelling. He dies only once-too many. But I've thought...what if maybe Balbir, is maybe dead but not.

He was our cabby in 78--sw desert boarder of california and somewhere and before that a brief friend on the diaspora from Indian troubles--there were many. That's all I know of Balbir.

Does it happen over and over?
Me Me

I'm still back tracing the travels to see if there could possibly be any more me's--hard to wrap my head around. But on this timeline...I think there is just the capability of 2. As I came and went where I was I do not count myself--and I am here now. Because if we did the manner that created us twice-we'd be somewhere else parrellel(sp) but different (those are a trrrip) as it would have to be an arrival before the initial too soon arrival and at that point there would be only the creation of the one the other created onnnne...hmm. But for I don't think we settled on our exact timeline exactly, just close to it, because we came back to the before-and then we stayed.'s a work in progress.

There may definately be more than one of me on another timeline. But the problem of the timelines was worked out quickly. I believe the first me me which was my origional self *prior* to leaving on the first trip, got redocumented and adopted out as I watched something of this happen before we both passed out. I thought I met her later on. I met someone identical to me pysically and mentally. Why wouldn't she remember? At the time I was thinking other things. And She would. She would remember getting adopted out. But would she say that to a total stranger some 6 years after immersion into a family? That person that I think has died. And there's a terrible tale. But...there too is my assumption. Where did the other me go.

Where were you?
Grown Up Me:
Some years later...I was getting out of the car and following what turned out to be her/my perp, but her/my perp went up ahead to the causeway by the stairs, as she/me was walking toward MY current door; but there I stopped in the parking lot, not knowing what I was seeing, still me-then unknowing she was me grown up, and watched as he ran up and grabbed her neck in a choke hold and shook her about some and she fell down, but her soul didn't feel gone (there is a feeling to this with anyone), and I wondered that she were not dead, and as he turned and walked back towards me, my head did the crashing like before when meeting me-me, so I guess it is a thing of proximity, as I know the other me-me and I then (I mean back then) were not dead. And he dragged me to the car and we left.

In other wards, my younger self, I, deduced immediately after that, that it was me/she because what happened in my head was exactly the same thing that happened in my head some years (though maybe not so many due to the nature of things) prior when I met my other intial me me who was still here, when we arrived back before we left.

Which is something you ought not to do. Without first going to a point before *everyone* in the party's parents were born. (if I recall). It was something like that. And following your exact passage back.
For instance if from 2050 you go to 1921 to 1949 and then on to 2001 and then to 2009. You don't just go from there to 2050 to get back where you started from, you go to 2001 and then 1949 and then to 1921 and then 2050--arriving *right* after you left; as, if you arrive *right* before you left you will stand before yourself.

(ponders the amount of doubles the future had to create to figure that one out)

Now, if you don't know this in advance.... and say go from 1977 to 1949 and think to yourself, oh my gosh holy lightbulbs, things don't look right, and go to 1922 thinking maybe it has something to do with this or that, and try to get back to 1977, and freak out cause things don't look right, and you've landed in some sort of heavy metal freak land, and try to go back to right where you started in 1977 you will arrive somewhere completely insane, where you might want to TURN AROUND and figure
to go back to 1922 to 1949 to 1977 AND THEN initiate again to go to 1922 to get to 1949 from 1977.

Somewhere in that lies the answer to the over and over question.
I've pondered the complexity of whether there is a later than me.

I know that someone in the future might read this, and know exactly what it's about, and it makes me wonder if they had travelled back there, if then all this typing would be then be for naught.

[edit on 28-10-2008 by HugmyRek]

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