No, I’m not going to wax eloquent on the time-space continuum, or time travel, or eternity, or any other concept of time as defined by physics, philosophy, or religion. I’m viewing time strictly from an egocentric point of view. My time.
The trilogy of time—what was, what is, what shall be. Yesterday—I’m told the past is dead, forget the past, don’t dwell in the past. Today—I’m told to live for today, live in the moment, live as if there is no tomorrow. Tomorrow—I’m admonished to plan ahead, to be forward thinking, to project into the future.
Of these three, I vote for yesterday. I’m not ashamed to admit that I love the past. I exist today … and I can only think about the future … ahhh, but the past is certain. I was there. To forget your past is to forget yourself. I’m the sum total of all the days of my life. I’m the end result of my ancestors. Even more, if you can hear it, I’m the present incarnation of an eternal being.
Now, I’m fairly techo savvy, I have a working knowledge of current politics and world affairs, and lord help me, I’ve even heard of Brangelina, but the past?
That’s where the stories are.