The Past is Dusty Books
Step outside the library
I’m walking through Athens among the ruins of an ancient culture survived by some traditions and rubble. What dreams did these enlightened elites, servants, and slaves have in their moment over two thousand years ago? Does it matter anymore?
They are of the past; their dreams and nightmares gone with them, and perhaps some realized in us.
Some of their fading shadows linger in distorted stories. The rest is dust.
No longer real.
Most cultures and people of yesterday leave less.
The future is yours only now
Age matters. Health matters. Ability matters.
Less age, more health, and greater ability bestow leverage to wrestle the future to your dreams; and if you choose, to your nightmares.
The choice is ours in unequal portions.
Apply your leverage in your moments before you turn to dust.
Before we fade we are animated drops of Bayesian meat-computers splashing in a chaotic-sea we will never fully see, never fully understand.
Pick your dreams and leap towards them in your moments, your nows, your todays. Tomorrow you may be rubble.
Tomorrow you may be a distorted story in a dusty book. Or less.
Live your dreams. You can only do that today.
You are real only right now.
