The light filters down through the branches.
Decades, Centuries, Millenia of history before me.
Such wisdom, such strength!
All supporting, ever-reaching.
Growing slowly, inconsistently, but still progressing.
It is the past.
And I am just a small branch.

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The future; our future; my future.
It is not necessarily the same. Sure one may influence the other, some more than than others but they are seperate only overlapping in areas that we share. Our hemispheres of action and consequence; our world; our own little bubble of life, it’s all we have.

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