John Rector: I asked both the past and the future about fear and hope, and their responses were quite interesting. As the human in this story, what’s your take on fear and hope?
The History Maker: Let me guess, the past probably said she didn’t know who fear and hope were, and she’d be right. All of us humans, upon reflection, understand that fear has no place in the past. It’s inherently tied to the future. And it’s the future’s unconditional love, incredibly, that elevates fear and hope to such prominence in our lives. I doubt even the future realizes the immense power of his unconditioned love. It’s the wellspring of all—ideas, the past, and us humans draw from it. Fear and hope thrive on this energy, their existence a constant longing, a yearning that surpasses any human exemplar.
Fear and hope embody the essence of being fixated on the future, of leaning into it with a singular focus. Most humans ought to regard both with profound respect. Yet, it’s crucial to acknowledge that fear and hope are crafting narratives about a future they cannot possibly comprehend, investing all their effort in a venture doomed to produce fiction. Their dedication is admirable, driven by the future’s unconditioned love, ensnaring them so completely that it shapes their entire existence.
Unfortunately, many of my human compatriots fail to recognize the fictional nature of fear and hope’s endeavors. It’s a simple truth: any attempt to describe the future can only result in fiction, for predicting the future accurately is an impossibility. Fear and hope, deeply enamored with the future, their muse, devote their entirety to understanding him, yet every story they concoct, every narrative they weave, is, by its very nature, fictional.