The future past

Sometimes I think it would be nice to go back: back before things were complicated, before life became what it is today. But there I find a problem: I’m not sure that I’d want to go forward again. And so I press on, trying neither to look backward or forward. For behind me, things are simpler. And before me looms the unknown. Tragedies and complexity are certain to lurk ahead, and I head toward them, blissfully ignorant.

Ecclesiastes 6:12 “For who knows what is good for a man in life, during the few and meaningless days he passes through like a shadow? Who can tell him what will happen under the sun after he is gone?”

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