Good morning
One day you wake up and you discover that you don't remember your dreams anymore. You drink your morning cup of coffee and it seems bitterer than you ever tasted it. The news on the paper are just a collage of names and places and empty facts, and the calendar on the kitchen wall is just a sequence of days, one just like the other one. Back to your room, you find that you left so many pieces of yourself in different drawers. They are spread all over in a way that is next to impossible to collect them. And you try to get dressed doing your best to look wholesome and sane. As you search for your documents and cards and keys, you realize the past is gone, the present is nothing like you planned it would be, and the future is just today dressed in shade. The missing card of the deck of a blind fortune teller. It is time to leave home again. And then you wonder in which closet, in which chest of drawers you left your dreams asleep.
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The Future is an idea, a mere conception manifested only as Today. Today is the Present. Whatever happens now and today, shall become the Past. So you can only live in the Present. For that is the Future, and that is the Past.
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