time:  run thread of eyesight through holes of moons in different nights, stitch the skies together.  little coffee cups don’t change that they all come out of the same brown barrel of liquid evenings, cafes, contiguous.  chronology is after the fact, a mnemonic tool that passes for reality, arbitrary organization of independent events, like alphabetizing index cards.  to say distant past caused recent past is tantamount to believing the letter B is caused somehow by the letter A.  that’s just the system by which the dictionary is bound.  pedal and pedagogue share proximity, not meaning.  it’s not sequence that determines relationship, but relationship that determines sequence.  the pages don’t turn, they unfold, explode.  we construct, imagine, days, from the nascent stuff of life, to be dropped and sorted in the chambers of memory, already informed by pre-echoes of our deaths, ordered according to illusory time.  there is free will, but it is constructive, not causal.