The past plods along, unwavering & unreceptive to influence. It cares not what we do; it continues on with itself as expected.

While in contrast, the future waits patiently, watching our every move, dynamically plotting its intercept course.

The past—the irresolvable soldier of our lives—cannot be forced to stray its course. We can only follow its trek & learn from it.

The future bends—to some extent or another yet it always does—to our whims & our actions. We can model it as a young child and turn it into something amazing.

Yet why do so many people fixate on the past as if it was some slumbering thing that we can simply reawaken or rekindle? There is no fuel left to rekindle; the fire has to be fed anew, and only the future bears fresh fuel.

Someone get me some blasted sunglasses. I can see the damage & desolation, the missed rest stops & scenic overlooks, behind me, but I’ll be damned if I can see anything ahead because of all this blasted glare…

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