perception and the thought of time will cage the deathwatch beetles, its onlookers, a clicking ticking species. They have hard thoraxes, and fear nothing but the time which they dwell on, and are cursed to see it as a mirror. We are subject to
the actions of the deathwatch beetle race that we are. A mirror does not lie, but it is the perceiver that lies to it. The bug sees a hard shell that decays with age, the mirror sees a bug that is killing itself with the power of thought.
Perception is the gift of infinity.
Perception is the lie that sings us lullabyes when we are awake.
I only offer a blanket to soothe the mind. A cloth made of
a material that is invisible and uncovers instead of cloaking.
This is parallax, what you see is not what is there, but it is.