Tomorrow is undefined, and utterly unknowable.
You may be able to glance around, taste the air, and make your predictions,
but in truth, Father Time is ruthless in his impartiality.
He is neither cold, nor warm. His embrace creates and obliterates.
Lives will be created, and lives will be extinguished.
We will laugh, and sing. We will cry, and feel loss.
Hope is the acceptance that maybe, things are better if we’re not fully in control.
If absolute power corrupts, then perhaps tomorrow belongs to the powerless.