Since Pluto was a planet, we’ve been maligned, predicted, and sent forth in the second millennium. A new day is upon us now, and the nation is waiting. Soon, our story will be written, and the generational torch will be hoisted for the passing. But now we’re here—the age of becoming, and we’re starting a long journey with an uncertain destination.
These days of anxiety started with a whisper on the fading breath of an absolute. We’re now closer together but further apart than ever before, and the quest for truth has begun. There are answers to question, and questions to answer—each depending on definition, and each definition rooted in a beauty that lies not in similarity or comparison, but in variety and transformation.
Though a fear lingers among us, we rise daily anticipating, looking to extinguish, and burning through these delicate, vital years. Slowly, the years form decades, decades form generations, and generations from voices. Maybe tomorrow they’ll hear the voice of us—all of us. Maybe together we can get to the other side. Perhaps we’ll get lost and stumble upon things we never imagined. And if we stay the course, maybe we’ll find that ever-elusive magic that gives two beating hearts the assurance that having each other, and something to believe in, is all they need to take on the entire world.
Whatever happens, please remember that the future is wide open, and that the ups and downs of life mean more than the lefts and rights. Remember that there are billions of stories yet to be told, futures yet to be uncovered, and tomorrows waiting to be lived. Remember that we’re not yet who we are going to be, and that it’s okay, because journeys take time. We’re all going somewhere. Wherever that somewhere is, let’s go together so that when we make it, we’re still alive.
I hope you find what you’re looking for, and I hope you get where you’re going. Mostly, I hope you know why, because tomorrow’s only a step away, and the history of our future is right now. Here we are.