The future is a temporal concept, an ineffable state, a distance, an abstract topic of pattern and form. The next second is the future, as is tomorrow, as is one billion years from now.
More than being infinitely vast and infinitely distant, I believe that the future is an endless cycle—from birth to death and then to birth again. Time's tunnel lies in this circle; with every passing second the future is one second closer, the second hand swinging forward an instant, and the moment that has just passed becomes the most distant future.
Perhaps through that gateway, that “wormhole,” we truly can transcend the future, and the utmost future we can achieve is to “go back to the past.” And supposing that one truly could defy the barriers of space and time to transcend the future, I would rather go back to the past than to a fantastical and advanced future world. The past offers a wondrously “alien” sense of familiarity, and with this it brings a mirror image that invokes an illusion. I confront another me, and lose the most basic judgment—is that my home, or his? Am I him? Then who am I?
I created this “future” letter to give to my past self, separately enclosing puzzlement, blessings, genes, codes, messages and photos, and from these clues and pieces of information “the other I” can reopen and reorder these revelations from the future, and when he believes that this letter comes from a parallel world, the letter then becomes a mission from the “future”—to “prove the future.”