I'm spacing out

Some folks say time is an illusion. Well, I don't have time for that kind of thing. 

I'm too busy fretting over location. Sometimes, it seems impossible that I happen to be located and not un-located. How in the world could I be taking-up-space when I don't know what space is? Outer space can go screw itself. I'm worried about walking-around, everyday space. What's not there but is there to keep me from being smeared across time. 

Physicists toss around the word "space," as if it's natural, identified. They graph it out with arithmetic and drop steel balls on it, so gravity will have something to do. I ain't buying it. 

Space (thus a location in it) is some kind of trick or nightmare. How did it get here? Don't give me "the Big Bang." That's like saying "three monkeys are less than two ducks." I'm telling you, walking-around space is invisible and not even there, yet it is. You can't bang out something that messed up. 

I'm growing irritated. Until I figure out why space is not even anything but is something, I don't even want to move. Until I know why I'm located wherever I happen to be while space is not there but is, I'm not going to play that tune.