I thought I knew full well about the time, until someone asked what the time was My microwave asked me... Read More
I thought I knew full well about the time, until someone asked what the time was
My microwave asked me about "timing" and "waiting". Its steady sound and bright yellow light made me concentrate. It was a short wait of a minute to heat the tea. I felt the emotion. Considering similar feelings, it was like what I felt as I waited for the elevator to go up to the fifth floor or waited for the last spin of the washing machine. No, this is a more direct encounter, maybe, it was the touch, than the emotion. In a busy life, this coercive and suddenly empty time made me feel the touch of time. Between these short niches of time and life, I thought of the act of waiting. "The wait" has a unique characteristic. In the interval of waiting, the compulsion of thought and action disappears. It was always natural to do something for this purpose. But in the meantime, of course there is some purpose, but you don't need to do any action or thought to that effect. What are people going to do in this short period of time, what do they think? How to fill or not this short empty time?
Now we can see an empty room inside the microwave. Along with the sound of the familiar microwave operation, this empty bedroom window shows us a scene where the sun sets and night returns. We are now looking at the flow of time in front of this microwave, which seems to be endlessly repetitive. The person in front of the microwave can fill this time and their empty room with everything. Of course, we can leave it blank. If we suddenly have a moment of emptiness then maybe we don't think about it at all, or we are faced with a lot of dizzying thoughts ... Maybe everyone will be very different. Perhaps someone can also feel infinite, in front of the expectation. Now, I am always waiting for something in my life. It probably won't end in a minute, like waiting for tea in the microwave. This time, in front of a rather difficult wait time and in front of the slow-spinning microwave, I think of the act of waiting.