It’s the past. You just arrived in the university, scared and excited at the same time. I just left it, more scared than excited, facing what lies ahead. We are unaware that the other exists.

It’s the present. You’re about to graduate. I’m more excited than scared, hungry for the future. We’re getting to know each other a little too well. Yes, I do know it’s from a song, OK?!

It’s the future. We’re both scared and excited and happy. Nothing else exists.

It’s the past. We’re meeting for the very first time. I think you’re a snobbish high maintenance rich kid, you think I’m a rude fat alcoholic jerk.

It’s the present. You think I’m quite OK. I think you’re amazing.

It’s the future. We think the world of each other.

It’s the past. I call you Freak Show, you call me Scatterbrain.

It’s the present. You call me Cheesy, I call you Trouble.

It’s the future. We call each other everyday.

It’s the past. You’re confused, jaded and weary. I cower in fear, curled up in a ball of self-loathing, depression and insanity. The world trembles in tragedy and disaster. We are small and insignificant.

It’s the present. We are strong. We are wise. We are devourers of worlds.

It’s the future. Robots are at war with zombies while what’s left of humanity is exploring outer space. Also, there are space sharks. Awesome.

It’s the past. We’re trapped in a downpour. The night is young, cold and dark.

It’s the present. We’re hoping for a respite from the heat. A light drizzle will do. The night is quiet, full of promise and less lonely.

It’s the future. We’re singing in the rain. The night is endless.

It’s the past. It seems time is running out. Always and never.

It’s the present. Time is standing still.

It’s the future. You’re my troublesome time machine.