The mystery solved was something you whispered to me while I slept, and grumbled, something incomprehensible, a muffled snort. The aspect joined, dimensional aberration, deconstructing causal flow, bayesian consequent, juggling atoms, all in this moment pushing at the boundary we call time. Suspense is expectant of prophetic delivery: of a natural configuration approaching and from the many possibilities becomes strictly one improbable moment: a conscious edge. The dissolution and reconfiguration of instants in this very moment - now - are not happening as you might think not linear, nor sequential nor measured. It's just that the only lonely path that retains a record of its flow is that which layers on top of others and leads to illusions of willed consequence as conscious mechanism. If you were dropping breadcrumbs to find who you believe to be its not the paths where birds have feasted on your trail that lead to your sense of existence.
And so, I was thinking about causality, free will, consciousness and all that kind of universal tangle of puzzles. While I was doing this, I became very much aware that the only way I could tell it was me making these considerations, was because I could remember where I came from, to be who I am, and what I am doing right now. Maybe, in a sense, you don’t need causality if you have memory… or maybe that is all causality really is: a path you went through.