A Sixtieth Of A Second

Last evening...10:00...….press "play" to flood the still images that appear to move, in sequence, affording us the illusion that Life is some temporal continuum of frames, although we are largely unconscious of most of what we 'see'...….I passed out somewhere within the frames on my TV screen...40 minutes…...actually, a specific fraction of a second into 'that minute'....Asleep, body paralyzed by brain chemistry's flooding neural tissues that immobilize humanity for minutes or hours of all the days of our Lives....just as the internalized dialogue between Mr. Robot and Elliot try to make sense of Darlene's hysterical denial system...…..The playback continues, as my paralysis only enhances that analytical portion of myself....Veristes….surveys 'inputs', even while semi-comatose...….an image flashes, as if it were actually seen, but was not, since my eyes were wide shut....my mind already at its nightly chore of reformatting and reorganizing all the sensory inputs into 'keeps" and 'deletes".....although every chemical modification is, actually, permanent and, potentially, transformational...…..Then, minutes or hours later.....the 'clock' feature claimed 1:48 am.....I reversed the playback of the DVR to 10:00, pressed 'play' and searched for the fraction of a second that presented a single frame of Angela's head with a bullet hole in her forehead.....obviously, dead.....A scene from the 'first' of the episode came into my memory.....in which the two thugs shoot her, as she sits on the bench.....she is shot in her right temple...…..This fraction of a second....maybe 1/12-16th of one...….saturates my now awakening consciousness, sending the Alert:  "What is actually going on here?" ……….The 'answer' to this question may,,,or may not....be revealed in the seconds, minutes or hours or entire "episodes"...even the "Ending"....weeks from tonight...….I'll have to finish this...or not...….store  these thoughts in internal memory for subsequent 'processing'.....but, for now, I'm writing these words, for my brain may decide that all of this meandering is unnecessary, and delete enough data to disable the reconstruction of detailed sequencing.....leaving me, tomorrow, with no conscious memory of any of this...…….