Where my Brain Goes at the End of the Day

Where my Brain Goes at the End of the Day

At first there was space and time,

And then there was Einstein,

Now, he theorized Spacetime,

You’re not even ready for this,

It’s scientific bliss,

And religions, they’re gonna be pissed,

Spacetime works a little bit like a loaf of bread,

Picture one in your head,

Now cut a slice,

Any way you want it,

Forget it, I can’t explain this like this,

So instead my crazy mixed up romantic brain gives it a twist,

Pretend there’s me, riding on my bike at a really fast speed,

And then there’s you, future lover,

In your car, or spaceship, or riding your dinosaur,

We’re going very fast in our respective transports,

In opposite directions,

Therefore your watch is going a bit slower than mine,

Mine is faster than yours,

What does this really amount to in layman’s terms?

Simple, we haven’t met, yet

Or already did,

Or Schrodinger’s cat is shifting between our houses,

But the point here is, some day,

You and I will be going the same speeds,

Possibly next to each other, on the freeway,

And then our watches will synchronize,

Via cosmic clockwork,

We’ll go on dates, and turn into nasty gluons like you see in public,

Somewhere in here is a joke about some cosmic cock-work,

And then we’ll either fall out of phase,

Or combine into some sort of ridiculous atom, or whatever,

But until then it’s gonna be interesting,

Because I’m riding my bike and I can hear myself in the future saying,

Push, push as hard as you can or you’ll never be as great as this,

And there’s a sparkle, DING!, in future-me’s smile that I reeeallly want,

So I push to become what I’ve already became,

Reaching for what I want to be,

While already knowing what I wasn’t,

And none of it makes sense,

And that’s what I’m trying to say here,

We all thought it was space and time,

And Einstein came along and made it Spacetime,

And now we’re all confused and don’t know where we’re going,

And you can only measure my orientation or my speed,

Which is either, forward, or ‘of light’,

Depending on which you measure,

And at the end of the day,

With my mind racing faster than my legs,

My brain clicked, and I figured it out,

Spacetime is confusing and ridiculous and amazingly magical when you get it,

Just like something else I accidentally obsess over,

Love,

Love and Spacetime are both absurdly complicated,

Often over and under rated,

And all too often we try and keep track of them way after they matter,

But that doesn’t mean I can’t wait for my heart to collapse,

And implode, burying itself deep in my stomach to form another black hole,

That someone comes along and helps me escape from,

Breaking all the rules all over again.