[THE EXTREMITY OF A CIRCLE]
The process of a galaxy forming begins with ”vast clouds of gas and dust collapsing under their own gravitational pull" allowing multiple reactions to take place. Within it, "a temporary balance between gravity trying to shrink a ball of gas and its internal heat pushing outwards" creating a star. "Small' lumps' of matter clump together" establishing bodies such as planets. Stars begin pulling in this matter with its gravitational pull and so begins the rise of solar systems. When two celestial bodies are orbiting each other, there is a dense matter that lays invisible between them. At their closest point of interaction, there's an energy transferal and slight alterations in the trajectory of the other. Observing this repetition from the furthest reaches of the darkest parts of the known universe
to the surface of the earth, where typhoons over the water making their way towards the land - where a population is also mimicking this phenomenon.
We orbit people, we do and do not know, crossing paths, getting close enough to influence and repel each other with thoughts, words, ideas, smell and body language.
As the Fukinawara effect takes hold upon tornadoes that are close enough to affect each other, begin circling, impacting the others path. When close enough they can merge or spill out into many smaller versions. Watching empathic changes in an orbit to accommodate the other, by choice or by gravity. The slowing of your speech, mimicking hands gestures to match the other body within the sphere of influence.
The pushing and pulling on the outer edges of something unseeable yet so strong has brought two (unlikely) bodies together. Close enough that they then form an orbit creating a similar self-loop with each rotation. Transferring matter, changing size, taking or giving at the nearest point of contact, forever with something more real and dense between the two. An unspoken thought is a gravity, effecting each other differently and indefinitely.
This deep yearning to be able to connect with people on some level that is witnessed in others.
Through time being spent - to continue to share experience, the acts of generosity and jest. A yearning felt throughout a whole lifetime. Never alleviated by attempts to tether, because as it is happening, the act itself is being thought about and renders any progress extinguished.
[THE OSCILLATION OF THE BRAIN]
In the Hubei Province of China, on the Yangtze River, the three gorges dam spreads across the 175km body and 600km downstream, generating hydroelectric power and increasing the Earths moment of inertia.
The longer the distance of a mass to its axis rotation, the slower it will spin, this is the moment of inertia. The arms of a figure skater folding into the body to increase the speed of the spin; the rod of a tight rope walker engaging this principle to balance; the three gorges dam slowing the rotation of the Earth. By raising trillions kilograms of water above sea level. Slowing the rotation, lengthening the day by microseconds and shifting the pole position by 2cm. Just as a body of water can stagnate revolutions or an elastic band that hits a maximum level of expansion before returning to some semblance of its previous shape or snapping. It’s a watermark of events, left in the traces of the brain. As memories change behaviour, growing wearier with the passage of time, languishing the process of human interaction, even in the smallest quantifiable exchange of strangers walking by each other. Once the moment of inertia of our thought processes has been affected, can it be reversed?
As we watch ourselves or others repeat behaviour. Always following a tracked but seemingly unknown rail, still the same experience, the same slowing, the self-similar universe forever recreating its self out of its own destruction, only to occur again.
This desire is there, leaving one vulnerable and often desperate attracting fluctuating ideas of self-worth, leeches and lampreys dressed in human costumes. By-products of intense and unmitigated rage, like an air-filled balloon held between the fingertips, the slackening of the digits overtime leaves an intermittent burst of noisy air, to be clamped down on - only to repeat itself with less of a well rounded, inflation. What if these momentary thoughts, internal monologues fuelled by intense and unfounded spikes of love, adoration, rage, animal instinct and the downright gross were all projected outwards like satellites? Forming an orbit around the source? Interacting and merging with others, drawn together, changing shape, would it be any different?
To be always a little too early or too late, to be talking in a daylight savings town to the other in the darkness, a little behind, knowing, in the end, it does not matter. It is just a crumbling structure to understand the world around us, in a theory, to attempt to cohabit, co-operate. To be one step out of time - for everyone to have put their time forward one hour yet you did not and spend days just trying to catch up. To think that we all beg for clocks to favour us and what a thought that we would need validation from our own construction and those that keep it. Or is it closer to a form of gravity? When we drop a pencil, the Earth also comes to meet it; although it is minuscule and unnoticeable, it still pulls the Earth.
A disturbance begins in the gravitational field of a galaxy; a tiny instability grows over an inconceivable amount of time, a grain of sand wearing into on a rock through the ebb and flow of tides. Two galaxies orbiting each other drawing closer; Gifting, taking and altering the other through their own tidal tails, exchanging gas and stars. Continuing this codependency with the knowledge of an inevitable collision; A merging of two intergalactic bee swarms. Burning, in a flash, twice as bright to resolve into a dimmer version than what they were seperate.The beginning of the inevitable boundary visible on the outer edge, going about all the mundane unconscious actions while living in the event horizon, last known location before the blackout, in infinite time.
In this juncture, chronostasis is encountered, being in the presence of a stopped clock. A joke of infinite time. It is considered interminable, but only because there was the Kappa Effect - the prior experience or judgement of moving time.
This exchange of information flows out like a syncopated rhythm, bad for the heart and the mechanical devices placed within. A fault in an atom causes it to begin a flow-on effect, swimming upstream and against the rest of the hydrogen particles within the Earth core. As all follow this new path, the magnetic pole weakens, the position to veer, and eventually reverse or flip. Leaving an array of lifeless and redundant machines on the surface; the acclaimed highest human capacity amounting to a grounded, dust gathering, eventually rusting object, turning to the dust that initially gathered on the forgotten apparatus.
Would these crutches of modern existence work again in the next polar switch? For the next 75 000 years, just a monument to a forgotten time, with laughable ideologies and quaint living circumstances, future generation visits where the bastion of current existence used to be.
Then we become our own satellite and come to "the realisation that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as our own - populated with their ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherent issues. A story that continues invisibly around you like the elaborate passageway of anthills, that spread deep underground. Thousands of other lives are continuing, and your pathways may cross, only once and thousands that will never meet."
That is all there is, and all that can be done.
Like two binary star systems with their orbiting planets, arrangements, structures and shapes, that continue to revolve around and be pulled in by the invisible dense mass that lays in-between them. Exchanging gas and other matter, altering each other's trajectories little by little, dancing together, never touching, forever.