There is no separation, no discreteness, in time for me. One day is much like another. They all run into each other. Today could be five days ago; it could be two weeks ago. All days are the same day. Today could be the only day I've ever lived. Tomorrow can not be demonstrated to be inevitable. I do not precisely exist. What is called news (history in the present tense) has no more immediacy to me than fiction. It passes through multiple filters of invention; first that of the societal structure which regulates what states of being may come about; then through the media filters which shape it in the interests of those who control the media, then through the filter of my perception. This latter filter is so thoroughly dictated by experience generated by the first two that I may be assured that I will receive nothing resembling reality.