Time does not exist in the present; it only progresses and passes into before. Yesterday’s memories are tomorrows as well. The present, this instant we are in, cannot be measured because it never exists except at the separation between what has passed and that which is to come. Perhaps I need show no concern for my gangrenous thoughts, because they don’t really exist, they are just an infection in the past, though destined for a cold deathly future. Do nothing. The present does not exist. It is just a portal between yesterday and tomorrow, like a moth emerging from its cocoon. That is existence. Like a seed upon the ground whose only purpose is to be consumed yesterday, pass through the bird of life to be excreted tomorrow. If I was only Einstein, pecking at the dirt, I might better understand the meaning of it all and be satisfied. But I am not.

The chances of each of us coming into existence are infinitesimally small, and even though we shall all die some day, we should count ourselves fantastically lucky to get our decades in the sun – Richard Dawkins

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