"Difficult to see. Always in motion is the future."

We are born into a world and a universe that have existed for billions of years. While we don't yet know -- and may never know -- all the secrets of our aged celestial home, what we have uncovered so far is staggering. In the age of the Internet, especially, knowledge is at our fingertips. And, if trusting potentially sketchy online sources isn't your thing, then places like libraries have been around for some time. As we grow, and learn how to talk and read and communicate and learn, the history of the world is there for the taking.

It is with a mild amount of perplexity that I admit to having taken all of this for granted for many years. I just... knew things, you know? Anyone with access to books, television and the Internet can know things. The entirety of our known existence is available, should we care to research it. And that's why, starting just a few years ago, I began to realize there will come a time when I won't know everything. That time will, of course, arrive upon my death.

I was reminded of this t'other day when someone tweeted about their love of the filmography of Bo Burnham. He's an actor and director, and the person mentioned how Burnham should have a long career ahead of him, and they can't wait to see it. Burnham is 31-years-old. The tweeter, based on their profile photo, looks to be in their twenties. I think Burnham is promising, so it was with a moment of sadness that I realized it pretty unlikely that I would be able to witness the entirety of his career. Same goes for someone like Timothee Chalamet (one of my favorite actors).

Some time before the Burnham incident (as it will heretofore be called), I'd had the epiphany that there were things I'd never know, and people whose life stories I'd never be aware of how they ended. The latter is something parents no doubt have thought of long before now. To raise a kid is to understand that they will outlive you. You want them to outlive you. That's the expectation. Perhaps, as a childless individual, such thoughts hadn't been so immediate. But my friends and family have kids. It's been wonderful seeing them be born, and to grow up, and... well, at a certain point the realization hit that I'd never know what their full lives would be like.

I'm someone who enjoys reading news articles and watching YouTube videos about new scientific theories and discoveries. They're fascinating, yet also a tad bittersweet. There's so much of our scientific history I know because it has already happened. Billions of years worth. But then the thought occurs that there will be be billions of years more that I will never know. The future of humanity, and the future of our cosmos are undiscovered countries -- for now. For those of us alive today.

All of this is probably why our ancestors, many generations ago, developed various religions. Nearly all of them involve the fabled ability for us to live on after our bodies perish, and often include the serene notion of immortality coupled with near-omnipotent knowledge of past, present and future. It's a soothing balm, if you can buy into it. It's easy to understand why it has existed and thrived for millennia.

The truth is, reality is a harsh mistress. It was around long before each of us existed, and will continue on long after each of us is gone. We have trouble fathoming no longer being alive, but that's because it's all we know. Really, for us, it's very similar to before we were conceived. The exception, of course, is that we will hopefully be remembered for a few generations after we're gone. Hopefully, we will have made a positive impact on those around us and, maybe in certain cases, upon the world, 

I'd kind of like to be around for the future of humanity, to know more about what we find out about the universe, to see if we can make the world a better place, or land a colony on Mars, or travel beyond the solar system. But I will never know those things. Or, very likely, the full filmographies of Bo Burnham and Timothee Chalamet. So it goes.