ladyoftime | (no subject)

Time doesn't run linearly, like you might think. Every piece of you, from death to birth and everything in between, co-exists.

Listen: can you hear yourself? There's an echo.

Doctor (doctor) (doctor)

Listen: the Doctor has come unstuck in time.

You’re here, yes, but everywhere else, too. You cross your timeline often, now passing yourself in the hallway, now tossing yourself an unexplained suggestion at the appropriate moment, now exchanging a knowing grin with yourself in the subway. You smile back, a faint, puzzled Do I know you? smile.

The past is very much alive.

Even the bits that never happened are alive; you have made them your own, held them in your mind. A ginger-haired woman you can't ever let yourself see again, a year that never happened. Memory is a way of keeping the past alive, too, even if you can't travel to it. Some pieces of the past are locked off, never to be returned to again, replaced by new (old) things. So it goes. The past is fluid, not set in stone.

Because everywhere, everywhen, there's you: the Doctor, in the TARDIS, eating fish and chips, unraveling a mystery, running for your life. You don't have to be there to know that if you look, there you are. That's the way of the universe.

Community:

theatrical_muse
Prompt: 264 - "The past is never dead. It's not even past." William Faulkner, Requiem for a Nun.
Word Count: 218
Author's Note: ...So, guess what I've been reading lately. >>