There Is None And Yet All 
 
The thing about continuity 
Is that there is none 
Continuity can never be experienced 
Only thought about 
The unexplainable sensation of the moment 
Produces a translation in time simultaneous with the sensation 
But the thoughts about now 
Are not now in its purity 
They endeavour to seemingly step away from now 
But they never can 
Yet they seem to 
And the endless play of what is which cannot be known 
And that which seems to be and has endless ways of being known 
Is the constant dance 
Of the unknowable and the illusion of knowing 
Of the timeless and the illusion of time 
But to know this all
Is simply bliss 
To know that I don’t exist
And yet am all that has ever existed 
And will seemingly exist eternally 
Is simply immortality