What future does the past have? We talk about rules and traditions, we talk about common sense and values, we talk about being offended and not being offended we talk, and go in circles—in circles. So, the question is: what future does the past have?
We talk about learning from the past, we talk about knowing the rules before we break them, but what do we parse? We grab what we need, and if we don’t need it then we don’t learn from it. That’s not learning from the past—let me rephrase that as a question: How is that learning from the past?
There are questions that must be answered, answered by each of us individually. We must sit in our own doubt and face our own contradictions. If there is conflict it is within us, and we must not project our insatiable instability instead we must face the history we wove; a history that is flawed, that is riddled with contradictions; a history that projects only the past in parsed pieces until we realize: we hold onto to the fragments of some ideation so that we may know, through our cries and claims, that we are alive. Letting go would mean losing everything but that’s what the future is: the loss of everything. The shards, the ideas, the friends, the emblems, the values, the offence: All of it! No more than echoes faintly heard across the river, if heard at all.
What future does that past have? None.