[Excerpt from a longer work on the movement of the spheres - By Anton Sokolov]
Once the curtain has been lifted, it becomes inescapable that we inhabit a world adrift in a sea of howling chaos, a terrible maelstrom in which all heavenly bodies orbit a devouring core. Though the trip could take many thousands of lifetimes, all cosmic objects are eventually dragged into this hungry nexus and forever cease to be.
Though they are moved by eddies in the celestial medium, stars offer guide points in the otherwise perilous blackness. Our own sun holds its planets close in our inexorable course toward oblivion, giving us life and warmth until the end.
[Excerpt from a larger work on the movement of the spheres by Anton Sokolov]
I have postulated here that time itself is an illusion, not so much the inevitable decline of a system from order into chaos, but merely an additional aspect of space, the nature of which is not immediately obvious. If a solid object is said to occupy a space by virtue of its length, breadth and volume, can the same object be not said to likewise occupy the measurable dimension of 'duration?'