Stretching forward and backward.
Is a separate shadow me,
Me in a moment discreet,
Each moment bordered from each moment,
Given the semblance of continuity
By the passage of consciousness,
Shadow to shadow.
Each shadow me exists,
Moments never pass.
My perception passes and makes me think that moments pass.
Time is an illusion of continuity.
Continuity is a perception of pattern.
So time is no longer an illusion.
I exist as eternal shadows of myself