'What's next?' is a brave question.
Unless you're ready for the endless nights of pondering, do not even try to think about it.
'What comes after Monday?' is entirely harmless, but 'What comes after life?' involves uncertainty and all sorts of possibilities. It is a desperate attempt to break the boundaries of the present, a hopeful call for the slightest glimpse of the future.
The fact that we barely know anything about life until we actually go through it is terrifying. After all, we are afraid of the things we don't know. And so, we resort to asking questions. We try to make sense of what happens and what might come next. We want to be prepared, or at least have a sense of peace and calm when the future finally arrives.
As we grow older, we will walk through the same path our parents and elders once took. We reach the milestones that were once too difficult to discern. And so, we come to understand their points. It finally makes sense why they said no, and we begin to worry about the same things they did.
But curiosity never really stops.
We beg for a snippet of our future, even though the passing of time shakes us to the core. We are fighting the feeling, the friction caused by the ever-so-relentless idea of time. The idea that we might've missed a good opportunity keeps us up at night. The sense of doubt washes over, wondering if we will ever live our life to the fullest. The guilt of not doing enough is the worst of all.
The fact that we are so used to seeing time as a linear concept is probably why we are so utterly afraid of losing our tomorrow. We want to wake up in the morning and all the mornings that come after. We hold on to the beautiful moments and prolong their presence as much as time allows. We always wonder what's next because we never know when the time will take it away from us.
We act like we own time when, in reality, time rules over us.
'If time allows,' we say when hopeful.
'Time will tell,' we say while hopeless.
Our relationship with time is strange. Slightly bittersweet. It's not like we ask for it, but most people refuse to let go anyway. We are so afraid of letting go of our yesterdays but, at the same time, cannot wait for tomorrow to come. We desperately try to alter the course of time by shaping our present. All in hopes that we are prepared for what's about to come. All in hopes that we know what's next.
And so we wait.
And we wait.
And we wait.
And the day it comes, the world goes in shambles.
