There are three kinds of people in this world:
dwellers, thinkers, and ponderers
I am a ponderer I am Future Boy
They say my thoughts are wild
Profuse and never ending
They claim that I am elated by the occurrence of coincidental dreams--- I'd agree because the rarity in coincidence fascinates me
They thrive on "living the moment"
But I feel assured by memories and photographs
Surpressed really

They pay homage to my intent but scorn my vivid explanation
They revere my feelings which are historically consistent
But discard my motives which serve as the catalyst
Why was I built this way? Why don't I favor the Average Joe that gains praise?
Why am I not what I look like?
They exclaim
Why can't you be a dweller? Hibernating in the bitter cold that masks the past?
Why can't you be a thinker? Letting the now bathe you in the honest sun?
See my motives lie in the future
Patiently awaiting an adequate and valiant contender
And if I were to receive revelation
I would bet that's why THEY don't understand