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I return to the question of future. In its trivial sense, as in will the sun rise tomorrow, future probably exists. I say probabaly because one doesn't really know. But in its more profound sense, just what is future. Looking at time linearly, as a one-way road, past, present and future do appear to have some kind of meaning. After all, didn't the Big Bang happen although I wasn't actually there. And won't the sun become a red giant, or is it a white dwarf, even though I won't be there to witness that either.

Leaving that general time aside, how about my personal time. My own little past and the future I dream about. All the time left to me to be lonely.

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The Tree

The tree was fine when I saw it last time. I don't quite recollect how long ago that was. I do recollect the tree was fine. Now I see it again. All shrivelled up, The glorious leaves gone, So too the pride. It looks old, Maybe feels old, wasted, useless What happened to you, old friend? What bolt of destiny struck you down. I doubt you will ever hold that head up again Against the sky, against the wind, against time. But don't you worry. We are with you. Shrunk, shrivelled, shaken down No matter. We are with you.
Today was not particularly bad as days go. I had my usual share of being alone. Deep in the madding crowd. Sometimes I wonder who among the multitude teeming around me are actually of my special category - loners. We don't tell each other you see. And when we do tell, we use odd names, hmm. like loner2. My other life, the one everyone assumes is my real one, went off as usual. The same old crowd. The same old nonsense uttered all around. Everyone pretending to be the best guy or gal on the planet. Man, it is quaint. Oh, I forgot to mention this one. I need to tell about my dreams. Some people would call them nightmares. So brace yourself for some weird posts. Most of them are going to be disjointed, 'cause like most people I don't remember the dreams in full. But unlike Plato, I do know they are dreams. Maybe they ARE dreams. In fact I believe they are dreams. Just dreams.
Maybe loneliness implies detachment. This is not what an old comment on this blog says. It says loners are basically asocial beings with some hidden grudge in thier minds. I don't think so. May be there are loners of that version out there. But detachment is the phrase that has been on my mind for some days now. The true meaning of detachment is way beyond me. Embracing emotions, experiences. I don't know. May there is something in that.