Everyone has a time machine. Everyone *is* a time machine. It's just that most people's time machines are broken. The strangest and hardest kind of time travel is the unaided kind. People get stuck, people get looped. People get trapped. But we are all time machines.

There is a sense in which I am pretty sure this makes no sense. I don't know where this is going. I don't know how it ends.

Most people I know live their lives moving in a constant forward direction, the whole time looking backward.

Life is, to some extent, an extended dialogue with your future self about how exactly you are going to let yourself down over the coming years.

What is this called, what I am doing, to myself, to my life, this wallowing, this pondering, this rolling over and over in the same places of my memory, wearing them thin, wearing them out? Why don't I ever learn? Why don't I ever do anything different?

Time is a machine: it will convert your pain into experience... It will force you to move on and you will not have a choice in the matter.

How do you convince someone to change, to stop being afraid of himself? How do you convince yourself not to be so scared all the time?