The present time, together with the past, shall be judged by a great jovialist.

In a certain sense the past is far more real, or at any rate more stable, more resilient than the present. The present slips and vanishes like sand between the fingers, acquiring material weight, only in its recollection.

We forgot about that a long time ago. The past is gone. We're more excited about the present and we took care of business tonight.

What we are left with then is the present, the only time where miracles happen. We place the past and the future as well into the hands of God. The biblical statement that "time shall be no more" means that we will one day live fully in the present, without obsessing about past or future.

There was only present, and it was infinite. The past and the future were just blinders we wore so that infinity wouldn't drive us mad.

But now isn’t simply now. Now is also a cold reminder: one whole day later than yesterday, one year later than last year. Every now is labeled with its date, rendering all past nows obsolete, until — later of sooner — perhaps — no, not perhaps — quite certainly: it will come.