000007

Time feels real because experience is organized.

Organization creates sequence.

Sequence creates memory.

Memory creates continuity.

Continuity suggests passage.

Nothing is actually passing.

But the structure implies movement.

Your nervous system depends on ordering.

Without order, it cannot function.

So experience is compressed into before, now, and after.

That compression produces pressure.

Pressure feels like urgency.

Urgency feels like time.

The body registers change as duration.

The mind narrates duration as a story.

The story says: “I am moving through life.”

But life is not moving.

It is being accessed.

Time feels real because access is limited.

You can only read one page at a time.

The limitation is practical.

Not fundamental.

This is why time disappears in flow, distorts in fear,
collapses in shock, and softens in stillness.

The structure loosens.

The story thins.

Function remains.

Reality does not require time.

Only experience does.

And experience is a formatting choice.