And along with indifference to space, there was an even more complete indifference to time. There seems to be plenty of it, was all I would answer when the investigator asked me to say what I felt about time. Plenty of it, but exactly how much was entirely irrelevant. I could, of course, have looked at my watch but my watch I knew was in another universe. My actual experience had been, was still, of an indefinite duration. Or alternatively, of a perpetual present made up of one continually changing apocalypse. ✨ Aldous Huxley (2010). The Doors of Perception: And Heaven and Hell, p.23, Random House

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