The coffee reader

The future is what will happen in the time after the present, which consequently means, we’re never really in the future. However, its arrival is inevitable due to the existence of time and the laws of physics. Due to the apparent nature of reality and the unavoidability of the future (by then not being the future, but referred to as the present), everything that currently exists and will exist can be categorised as either permanent, or temporary. We all are temporary, we know we are born – we know we will die. Therefore, the future haunts us; whilst at the same time fascinates us even more. So we try to grasp it, before it slips through our fingers into the present, down to the past. We dream, we fantasise, we schedule, we make plans. We fill in the time before it has even happened. We desire the ability to grasp a possible knowledge of what may come, instead of to let come whatever may.

This desire in itself is, at least to my opinion, extremely interesting, since it doesn’t necessarily tell us anything about the future. Instead, our desires come to light even when we evidently want to hide them.

The coffee reader was there to tell me everything I was hiding from myself. She lifted my cup from the saucer and asked me to think about my deepest wish. I was quiet, as I couldn’t think of anything to wish for. So she started telling me about the now, the past, and the future – but all the while all I could think about was the inability to come up with a wish. Whilst at the same time, feeling completely tranquil in this lack of desire. When was it that I became this content? The coffee wouldn’t speak up about that, nor did I want to raise the question out loud. It might even be a question not worth asking at all. All the coffee reader could do was continue a story. She sketched me a possible, lovely, future: a house, a man, a job, and a child. But most of all, I would be happy – and indeed I am.