Dear Future,
You poor charlatan, you knew this one was coming...  
If Time were a television show about coming of age high school students, you would be, the ‘bad boy’. You know, the mysterious one.  The one that everyone thinks they can change.  Those pawns think they can mold you to fit into their own little box.  One they can bring with them to parties and show off to their friends.  An illusion they can bring home with them.  “Hey Mom and Dad, look what I’m going to do!”  Something to darken their vision enough so they can all sleep at night.  
They don’t know you like I do.  I see you for what you are.  Alone.  I once saw you as an enemy, but now I have come to the doleful conclusion that you can never be with anyone.  
But it’s cool because I get to be the narrator that everyone relates to.  So thanks, Future. I’ll see you soon.
Listfully,
Wayne Benjamin Rush Hoagland