It's not a matter of pretending that the past does not exist. It's a matter of realizing it's illusory, a concoction, and that we're caught in the concoction. It's a matter of realizing that psychological time is memory, a recording, and various projections. It's a matter of seeing all that in a whole way and, therefore, seeing that it takes multiple forms, though it's all the same thing. Whether it is hero-worship, ideology and doctrine, identity, politics, or self-projection as self-importance and status, it's all the same process: Me and mine.
"I" am made up of the past and projections into the future; all products, fabrications, of thought. And the tragedy is that something so completely fake can cause brutality, murder, isolation, and sorrow.
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