to think of ten thousand years, as in the union in Talvin Singh's song. rocks slowly shaping and reshaping, lives gone as quickly as they came, light and darkness and all and everything. ten thousand times the life of a one-year old. a hundred times the life of a centennial. it must last as long as the distance between the planets is long.
yet, there is more; ten thousand years in itself a blink. the distance between the planets themselves a tiny nothingness of dark matter compared to the other distances out there (and expanding and expanding, thanks to, i believe, Georges (Belgian dude!) and Albert)
and then there is the second. or not just the second, just any second. a second in which a great mind can be born, or a great mind can die. a single second in which someone can lose his or her belief in everything he or she ever believed in, tears and sadness, loneliness, a neverlost burden for the rest of his or her breathing life. a second in which a first kiss between people who have loved each other for so long but never admitted it confirms an entire world, an entire infinity of a union of souls.
and these combined, as in the almost endless morass of moments, as in clusters and clusters of entire galaxies of seconds. ten thousand years of seconds, of which any of these seconds can mean nothing at all, or everything. plus: how we experience it and what it is. and the question whether it is anything else besides how we experience it. durée and temps (horloge), the binary opposition complementing each other each and every second, each and every ten thousand years.
phew. luckily there still is Rios's Broad Daylight.