We are creatures of habit.
The past becomes the present from this familiar addiction of trying to
recreate any moment that we fear the end of, and we believe we can see the
future by being clever enough to try to control it; but being clever is never
enough, and soon we can see that our futures are impossible to foresee.
We
are creatures of hope.
We
want to believe in the impossible things. We want to believe that it is possible
to know what happens next, because right now it feels like whatever it is, it
won’t be pleasant.
If
you look to your past long enough you will see the familiar habits, you will
bear witness to the mistakes that you continue to make, and you will inevitably
assume that you can see where this road leads.
We
are creatures of this present time and no other.
As
much as we try to control the currents of this vast ocean that is our lives,
all we can ever do is watch the water slipping through our hands.
You
can look to the prophets, to those that try to sell you the map of your future,
or you can accept that the next step will always be into the unknown; and isn’t
that the way it was always meant to be?
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