I love words, but I don’t care about words. They haven’t been around long enough to articulate what I’m saying here.
With no design or diagram, after so much, not actually that much, time, atoms have formed so many intertwining biochemical attractions that the molecules and organelle clusters developed autonomous motor functions, even such simple actions as swimming generally left, or right, and eventually, growing beyond osmosis, eating and digesting one another to feed the internal combustion fusion engine. After more time, those building blocks interbreed and intermingle to a frightening scale of complexity and independent decision making and unimaginable size and self-centered ferocity.
There is no thing alive that was not the daydream of electrons. Farming fields all on their own, splitting and tilling until it sustained a shadowless light that had only ever flickered on and off before.
Somehow, the dramatic complexity of our lives also exists on an atomic level.
I have a theory. I am a stupid man. The only understanding I have ever glimpsed has been peering through the prism of analogy. Big metaphor. Dense simile.
Electrons are matter-farmers.
Protons and neutrons only seem to exist in the center of a negatively charged cloud of frustrated energy, that has a pull, and a power, a gravity, and all existence as we know it, life especially, is a sort of sustained state of fusion. When we split an atom, the world will never forget what happens. Einstein theorized that if an entity could catch up to the speed of light, it would not necessarily feel like it was moving very fast, but more like time itself was standing still.
That’s consciousness. The materials you and I are made of are moving at the speed of light. The energy we call our minds is as well, slowed through organic tubes and carbon based wiring inspired by them, but to the speed of light, nonetheless. Energy is motion. It is movement. Our thoughts are happening at the speed of light, at the very speed limit of time, yet it feels like we are sitting still. Feels like we’re not moving at all. We quiet ourselves to the rushing of the wind and slowly our senses are invaded by the ever flowing headwaters that fill our heads, and bodies, and the timekeeper ticker zapped by brain lightning into hyper dutiful obedience, all the way to flapping eye covers and growing new hair and salivating and literally every single internal life saving organ function.