It is morning. You awake. Before you lies a normal day under the normal skies of your normal life. The usual sights and sounds you have known for all these years surround you; this provides comfort. You rise from your bed, perform the standard ritualistic cleansing and organisational duties, then enter the outside world to face another day; an average person, in an average world, ready to perform many predictable, average tasks.

Moments before you arrive to your destination, a stranger – at least twenty years elder, stops you dead in your tracks. You have never seen them before, but the hidden look of desperation in their eyes seems eerily familiar. You are of equal height, exact build, and their mannerisms echo your own like an ageing carbon copy. With a sharp breath, they tell you what you already know, but were too afraid to believe… they, are you; back from the future.

They tell you they have returned to save your life - at least, save it from stagnation. They tell you the door you are about to enter will remain the door you are about to enter, two decades from now. They explain a sobering reality in how your past, present, and future revolve around one job, one path, one vision, and one boring philosophy. You tell them nature will provide plenty of opportunity, and your hopes, dreams, and ambitions, shall eventually pull you away from the repeated drudgery of this path. In a flash they confess – as you see the brutal truth in a pair of eyes you have been lying to your whole life, that these are mere idle thoughts, designed to keep you working on a dream which isn't even yours; the carrot on the stick tied to the head, always slightly too long for the arms to reach.  They warn you to reject the growing security of predictability. They beg, plead, and moan, to get the living hell out of this terminal existence; to start somewhere new…. start somewhere new. 

In a moment you peer down to compose yourself. Glancing up, your future has vanished. You enter the doors of your employment, all is normal - the only exception being the lingering cloud over your head, reminding you there is more to existence than merely existing. Looking around your co-workers and colleagues, you begin to view them as monkeys; well meaning, but ignorant and weak. You can tell very few will ever escape – not because it is physically improbable to do so, but because they have chosen to allow it to become mentally impossible instead. You complete the normal tasks of your normal day in your normal life. Nothing seems different. The usual sights and sounds you have known for all these years of your current life surround you, and this provides comfort.

You arrive home. You think for a second about the chance meeting. Looking in the mirror, you appear different; you are now at least two decades older, and are remembering a memory of many years ago. You have now become the elder you, you once met; you agree with every word they said. Tomorrow, when you awake, you will tell the younger you exactly what you once heard - hoping, for once, you will listen.