telescoping

I lay on the mat staring up at the kaleidoscopic reflections on the ceiling. I pictured the next thing I could do at that moment. I pictured an event that could follow that, and another to follow that, and I whizzed around and around until I caught myself, and I realized I was Telescoping.

In the next few moments, I hurtled helplessly into the future. I saw my next minutes, days, but wait… I saw what I was doing, and stopped myself.

I then found myself on the hard gray floor of a cold round room. I could barely see by a blue glow that entered through each of dozens of windows that ringed the dome ceiling.

There was nothing comforting or embracing here. But there was also nothing frightening. There was No Telescoping.

Of course, I tried to dream up a plan. I was unsuccessful. There are no plans if there is no future. And without plans, expectations…

I lay without any reservations or regrets on a soft black floor that I couldn’t see. The blue windows began to look soft, too. Everything was soft. But I could not be consoled. I said “I don’t want to stay here forever.”

A voice answered, “You cannot stay here forever. This place only exists to teach you that it is possible.”

I don’t have to keep seeing the future.