We believe in a future of bliss, of ecstasy, of heaven. We push for it, seek it out, and ask for it. We hope for a future that cannot be denied to us, and yet, it does not come. Our future is what our past makes for us. The past speaks relentlessly into the present, forming the future we so desperately desire. Like Gatsby, our future dreams and desires are the outcomes of our past memories; driving us to earn, work, rest, and pray for more of that precious desire that eludes us. However, the memories of our past will never be repeatable, unless you are like Gatsby - ever trying to repeat the past. Our memories were unique to the moment they were made, and even now they are disappearing the further we are from that moment. And so, as we pursue
