I have this condition, my family calls it asthma but I call it the ability to make our conversation a thousand times more awkward by having a panic attack in front of you. It’s a survival mechanism. A party trick. Call it whatever you want. Call it love call it hate. Call it noise, lights shimmering above like stars. Call it the future.
The future. By the end of this year we will be older. At the end of this year we will be alive.
You see, I like to dabble in astrology but I can’t see past my own face. You want me to read your cards? I’ll predict heartbreak for you too. (Don’t come to me if you’re in a relationship. I’m not a Scorpio.) When I came to college I was ready to surround my room with candles before I found out it was a fire hazard. Don’t worry, we found another way to set off the fire alarm. I’m only 80 percent joking right now. Fortunately I brought fireworks instead. That was a joke. Please don’t come and search my room. If anyone wants to buy me fireworks, hit me up. I’m not 18 until August, and I need them to take photos. I’m not a pyromaniac, I promise. The only thing I burn is the past, and sometimes that needs to be lit on fire.
So I can’t see the future. I’m just like you. Okay, maybe not. I’m sure at least fifty percent of you wanna be engineers. The only thing I engineer is words. And okay, I edit photos. But according to my sister I have the photo editing ability of a toddler who’s just been given crayons for the first time. I mean, the important thing is that I love it, right? Here’s my first prediction:
The future will be loud and covered in candles. I mean, here we are tonight! We’re living in the future. Because the future is the present. There is no such thing as time. There is no such thing as time! We are all alive! And we’re dead! But we don’t have to be dead! We can be alive because we are alive. Here is me and there is you and you and you and you! Reach out and touch someone. That’s easy for me to say. Sometimes it doesn’t work and sometimes it breaks your heart. I like to write poems about my own pain. You see, this used to be my story. This used to be me. But the future is an impossible dream. The future must be realized.
The future will be stars in the daytime. The future will be nights without sleep.
The future will be leaving the lights on. The future will be dreaming when we’re awake. The future will be bright and covered in lights. The future will be all of us and we will keep spinning all over this globe. In the future I will stop writing to you. The future, the future. The future will be everything we ever dreamed of because the future is the present, and we are alive.