There are days where I lose track of time, of place, of everything else, because I've been transported to another universe.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
This experience of getting so lost in my writing that I lose track of time, or of anything outside the imagined world, is a release for me.
Time and space - time to be alone, space to move about - these may well become the great scarcities of tomorrow.
Time travel is such a magic concept.
For years I tried to put myself in a box, and it frustrated me, so I had to let go and let the universe take its course.
My goal, with whatever I'm working on, is to lose track of time.
Ah, you may leave here, for four days in space, but when you return, it's the same old place.
I have all the time in the world. I am in touch with the timeless. I am surrounded by infinity. When I think like that, it doesn't mean I'm going to miss my train, it just means that I'm not thinking about it right now because I'm speaking to you.
My work is about my life as an event, and I find myself to be very temporal, transient.
If you miss one day in physics, that's it.
Travel gives me the opportunity to walk through the sectors of cities where one can clearly see the passage of time.