The future

When you think about it. I mean when you truly sit down to just consider it, it’s something that doesn’t make sense.
We imagine it as something that already exists but that we’re waiting to experience. It’s kind of like a movie. The story’s already there, the scenes have already been lived, and you’re waiting to know what happens.

However, in reality, it’s not like that. It only happens if we happen. If my life ends now, there is nothing for me to experience later. And that’s that.
And if all I’m doing is waiting, then, I’m not taking charge, then I’m not in control, and I’m not even trying to be. By waiting, I am passive, I do not exist, I have no future.
I think, though, that if I stop imagining what will happen and actually try to act in the present in a way that would allow what I want to be a reality, then maybe it can be.

The future is as surreal as the past. They’re things that we never truly experience for they don’t last. Nothing lasts in this world so long as we are encompassed in Time. And when you think about it, none of it makes sense. And it seems that all we do is attempt to reproduce moments during which we felt we were happy, and, if not, attempt to produce them. At the end of the day, it’s what we seek. Happiness. In any form it may take.

And the future? Well, even if it, technically, doesn’t really exist, in itself, it’s as scary as Hell, perhaps because we can never know anything about it.

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