The *Future*

Television always told us that in the future we will be wearing jumpsuits with wirelss internet connection, have flying veichles, self-cooking food and the most amazing opportunities for both work, travel, housing and education.

Well enough about our opportunitites.
What about the opportunities, what about them?

The yellow-painted brick school, the big, old primary school right up my road, isn't that considered an opportunity?
The little, square ad with the printing ink smudged and rubbed out over it, looking for someone to take the job nobody wants, isn't that an opportunity?
The slightly curled flight tickets to Yemen, stained with eau de toilette and tucked away in your purse, are they not opportunities too?

What will happen to our wide options - that we today call extraordinary - will they become ordinary and slowly dissolve into pointless, futureless dead ends? Or will they continue to be options we may choose in life, and our new options will simply be for the best of the people?

The old school will rot, the yellow paint will be pale and all flaky around the corners, it will have heard its last cling of childrens laughter, and no teacher will slip on the icy stairs again.
The ad will long ago have been burnt, perhaps recycled - if you wish it a less bright future - forever tormented through repetative paper mills, old fibres exchanged with new, over and over, until the last, pathetic rests is inevitably thrown away. The job which it offered, which it bore so proudly, was never filled, the position remained empty, and the firm spent time counting pennies, calling it the day by lunch. Until final Armageddon.
The tickets to Yemen had lost their print, they can't go to Yemen, nor anywhere else. The tickets would be the lucky one of the opportunities, a collector stumbled across it one day and framed it. In blinding spotlight it was set, to look sheepishly out on a fascinated crowd for as long the conservatives would torture it. And then one day, it would finally be thrown away, close its eyes and sleep - content though abused - it would never have seen Yemen.

We are faced with opportunities, sometimes we choose to go with it, throw everything away and try it out, at times we regret that, but sometimes we regret the opportunities we did not seize. The time which we didn't throw everything away and test the mood of faith.
Then what would we regret the most? What was, or what could have been?


Audun said...

I think I've heard a saying (of sorts)about it once. It went something like this:

Mankind desires the choices, but dreads the choosing.

It's how we usually are isn't it? Even when he make a choice, we would still wish for the other options to remain open.

But hey, that's life I guess. We can't have every-thang.

And just to get even more philosophic:

Maybe it explains why poor countries are just as happy as rich ones, if not happier. They don't have as many choices, so they are content with the ones they do get.

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