-reposted from an extinct blog-
most of my friends know that i love history. but my love of history runs deeper than one may think: i am constantly thinking about the past, about events long gone and dead forever. instead of the future, my mind remains focused on the moments, events, and lives that time has left behind.
the past torments me. i am obsessed with it; it's constantly on my mind. i think about it every day.
not just my past. the past in general. the past fascinates me far more than the future... why? i'm not sure. i really don't know...
it really bothers me, for some reason, that we'll never really know all the stories of the people who lived centuries ago... they are gone forever, their lives and hopes and heartaches and triumphs as dead as they are. the history books are never the full story; there's always so much more that we'll never know about even the most famous and well-documented events of the distant past.
and not just people. those ancient times, millions of years ago, when pre-avian dinosaurs and their kin walked the planet... it REALLY bugs me that we'll never know exactly how they looked, how they lived, what the earth looked like back then. i really want to know, but we won't ever TRULY know.
this infuriates, unsettles, haunts, and generally bothers me.
i hunger for the very idea of a time machine, and express intense frustration at the impossibility of it. and yet, a hope lingers.. however unlikely. could there be a way to visit or even just see what has already happened? as i said, unlikely. but i can hope, can't i?
