The Time is Precious#

I keep telling myself: the future is not optional. It doesn’t ask for permission. It doesn’t wait for readiness. The time to come, will surely come.

Deadlines arrive whether I prepare or not. Plans eventually meet reality. Even fate — the one I can’t predict — eventually becomes part of history. What feels abstract today will one day be concrete, written into the story of my life.

The Weight of the Unknown#

The past is easy to hold. It’s visible, proven, already carved into memory. But the future… the future is different. It’s invisible, untested, and yet it presses against me with a strange weight.

I feel it when I was a student, counting down to graduation day.
I feel it when I watch the elderly, quietly aware of their final chapter.
I feel it when someone sick dreams of recovery.
I feel it when I wait for something long prepared to finally happen tomorrow.
I feel like something silly is going to be a booming trend.

The future is unknown, but my instincts whisper: it will happen. And that whisper is both terrifying and comforting. Why? Because we’re not burdened by the consequences. What we know is only within ourselves, not the outside world, but everything is indirectly connected.

The Paradox of Time#

I look back at what was once “cool” — the trends of the 90s, the Y2K aesthetics. They felt eternal then. But one decade later, they looked outdated, even laughable.

That’s the paradox: time flows forward, objectively, undeniably.

• What was once fresh becomes old.
• What is now unknown becomes real.
• What is real becomes memory.

It makes me wonder: maybe in other dimensions, time doesn’t move like this. Maybe there, the past, present, and future coexist. But here, in this world, time is a river — and we are carried forward whether we want to or not.

My Confession#

I’ve felt disappointment about the past. Mistakes I can’t erase, moments I can’t relive. But I’ve started to accept them with pride, because they taught me. They shaped me.

And now, I try to live in the present with awareness. Because the future is not just a dream — it’s a construction. If I don’t build it, it will still come, but maybe not the way I want.

So I plan. Not perfectly, not with certainty, but with intention. I remind myself: the time to come will arrive, whether I’m ready or not. Better to meet it with open hands than closed fists.

Reflection#

The past is a story.
The present is a choice.
The future is a promise.

We live not to stay still, but to move forward.
And every step I take today is already part of the history I’ll look back on tomorrow.

The time to come will surely come.
And when it does, I want to be able to say: I didn’t just wait for it. I built it.

Make plans like an adult, then believe like a child.