#also WOW the scream I scrumpt at seeing VERY esteemed tumblr user catadromously in my inbox.

[chiropteracupola]

could you simplewriterly tell us what you’d do if you had the chance to spectate back in time? (no one can perceive you and you can’t change anything; you are guaranteed a safe return when you’re done)

[writing in simple words]

Step 1. Look! look at everything!

I have so very many questions about things that happened, and things that did not happen, and things that maybe happened, and I want to know them. I want to follow the parents of my parents' parents back through their lives and see where they were from. I want to see the tall water cars by the sea when they were new and young, and when they were still flying over the water with their white wings. I want to watch the stories on the small screen before someone decides they aren't important and hides them away. I want to see the big ground-hole-cutting animals in the south land area before we don't have them anymore. I want to see what my house looked like a hundred years ago and I want to see the people who lived here.

Step 2. Put faces to the names.

Five hundred and some years ago, there was a woman who lived in the part of the land south of where I live. She knew she was going to die soon, so she wrote down what she owned and the names of the people she loved best and said that they should have her things. This woman spun soft things from creatures into soft things for her family and to sell, and while she was sick, she understood that she would not be able to finish making her things. So she put away her machine for making the soft things into flat rows, and she wrote down that her brother should find someone to finish her soft things once she was dead.

In the now that is happening now, I have learned how to spin soft things from creatures, and I want to learn to use the machine for making the soft things into flat rows. I have read what the woman five hundred and some years ago wrote, and I would like to see her face even if she can't see mine.

Eight hundred and some years ago, there was a little kid who lived in a different land area, east and north of where I live. He drew on bits of tree skin when he was supposed to be learning to write, and in the now that is happening now, I have seen what he drew, and I draw on my small screen when I am supposed to be learning to write.

Many hundreds of years ago, there was a man who wrote his name very high up on a roof. Many hundreds of years ago, there was a person who thought we should put some stones in a very big circle. Many hundreds of years ago, there were people who lived in houses under the earth, and they stayed in their home-place under the earth for so long that the sea came up to them from far away. Many hundreds of years ago, there was a woman who lost her sharp piece of silver in a field very far away from where she was born, and very far away from the place where the piece of silver was made.

I would like to say hello to them, and to remember them, even if they cannot see me.

Step 3. Write!!

I want to know. I want to hold on to what I know, and to keep holding on, and to tell the things I know to other people. I want to tell about the woman who wanted her soft things to be finished, and about the kid who drew on pieces of tree skin, and about the man who left his tall water car by the sea that is near my home-place and forgot to come back for it, and about the people who made the very big circle out of stones.

I want to sing the songs they knew, and to know their names and say them, and to hear their songs and their names and their stories in the air in the now that is happening now.