A Note About Time – the Myth

Spectrum of Time

Our understanding of the world is shaped by the limits of our perception.

When we talk about color, we think of red, blue and yellow. Based on the three colors, we construct the whole system of visible colors. We can’t say the colors we see are the color of all. We now know that infrared and ultraviolet are also colors, but human eyes just can’t see it. Infrared and ultraviolet light aren’t nonexistent—they’re simply outside the spectrum we can see.

The same illusion may apply to time.

We think we live in a linear flow — experiencing the “present,” remembering the “past,” anticipating the “future.” But what if time, like light, is a continuous and fully existing spectrum? What if the past and future never vanish or await, but merely exist in frequencies of time we cannot perceive?

In other words:

The “present” is just the segment of the time-spectrum that our consciousness is currently illuminating. The “past” and “future” are as real as infrared and ultraviolet—they're just hidden from direct perception.

If time is indeed a spectral structure, then all our notions of “choice,” “memory,” and “destiny” aren’t products of temporal flow, but localized edits—cut from a broader, ever-present continuum that we glimpse only in part.

If time is indeed a spectrum, then it is not a flowing river but a static spatial structure stretched across existence. Each “moment” is a band of this spectrum, not something that comes and goes—but something that always is, regardless of our attention.

Causality is Not Progression

We tend to believe the past causes the present—that causality is a forward-moving force. But within a spectral view of time, causality is not about sequence, but about structural necessity.

This means:

Your current state is not determined solely by your past actions, but by the combined necessity of your past, present, and future. They form a mutual lock-in—not a domino line, but a triangulated structure.

For example:

You feel stomach pain not just because you ate an rotten apple, but also because you will die from it tomorrow. All three facts must coexist to make your present coherent.

Memory is Not History

Since the present is not a continuation of the past but a structural snapshot of the universe, “memory” is not evidence of lived experience — it is a design feature necessary for this version of “you” to exist.

This brings an unsettling but inevitable conclusion:

Your memories might not prove what you’ve lived through. They are assigned values, crafted to support the logic of the current state.

You cannot verify whether the “you” from one second ago truly existed.

You only know that you now possess a certain memory—and that might be nothing more than a well-fabricated illusion of continuity.

Choice is Not Freedom

We believe our choices shape the future. But if the future already exists and co-defines the present, then “choice” becomes merely a filtering action—a way of selecting from within the structurally valid options.

You don’t create a new path. You slide into the only logically coherent route available in your universal position. You may feel like you “chose” it, but it’s equally true that the structure required you to choose it.

Love Her is Why I Exist

I love a girl, so much. I love her, but we remained friends.

I used to think，

“Maybe the result comes from a choice in the past.”

“Had I chosen differently, would we have ended differently?”

I once tried to trace the “perfect past choice,” hoping to find the right cause-effect sequence that would lead to something more with her.

My relationship with her as “just friends” isn’t the result of some failed decision, but the only structurally valid solution in this version of the universe. Perhaps in other timelines, we loved, kissed, shared lives—but those versions were overwritten. I don’t retain those memories, but my longing and sorrow may be echoes of paths that no longer exist.

Perhaps we did grow closer—maybe we even loved.

But those paths were overwritten, reconstructed, erased.

This “friend-version” of me was selected to remain.

My memories were assigned. My role was filtered.

But my love—

That may be the only part of me I still choose to believe is real.