Ten years from now, I will be twenty-four years old. By this time, I hope to be fluent in French, hopefully Romanian as well. I will have had a decade’s worth of experience playing the ukulele, and I hope I’m actually good at it by then. I will be working on getting a book published, if I have not already. I’ll most likely have finished with college by this time, and I might still want to become a therapist. I could already be one. I measure my life in specific periods of time, and I could be in one very far away from the one that I am currently in, though I really hope I am not.
Ten years from now, technology will have advanced greatly. I hope that printed books are still around. Computers will still be around, because I don’t think they will ever go away, but they may look almost nothing like the ones we have now. Maybe the Internet will finally be accepted by older generations, and people on television will stop talking about it like it’s this crazy thing that those crazy kids use.
So many things will have changed between now and then. Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia, and thinking too much about what may happen prevents us from focusing on what is actually happening. I don’t like to think a lot about the future because ten years from now, I’ll know that I was wrong.
Ten years from now, technology will have advanced greatly. I hope that printed books are still around. Computers will still be around, because I don’t think they will ever go away, but they may look almost nothing like the ones we have now. Maybe the Internet will finally be accepted by older generations, and people on television will stop talking about it like it’s this crazy thing that those crazy kids use.
So many things will have changed between now and then. Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia, and thinking too much about what may happen prevents us from focusing on what is actually happening. I don’t like to think a lot about the future because ten years from now, I’ll know that I was wrong.
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