Between the past and future

The future came. It such what we waited for it, read about it in science-fiction stories. It is fascinating, magic, powerful, promptly developing. It came.
And, together with it, the lack of time has come surplus of information; an overload to it pulled hard the mountain. Days rush promptly, without leaving time for reflections, trying to understand, feelings.
People ceased to write each other letters, at them the desire to read long books, to reflect was gone. At most, on what time and desire – short notes in social networks where not so "there is a lot of letters" is enough. It "is pleasant" to put, pressing the buttons, fluently to look through statistics and a friend list, and to disappear in the world of games.
Sometimes there is a desire to merge with machine, to let in electronic reason the world, to add the self opportunities with opportunities of electronic technologies. Probably, to that all also goes, and in the future people will merge with machines and will get lost in the virtual world.
And it is difficult to give an assessment to something. All this can be dramatic and lofty at the same time. It depends of from what corner to look.
On the one hand – boundless opportunities in search and assimilation of information, self-training. With  another – a stupid outfoxing of those who is content with empty series and silly letters of happiness.
On the one hand – new technologies and new ways of knowledge of the world, with another – impossibility to become famous without expensive advertising.
Doesn't leave feeling of overpopulation of the world, general fatigue, intolerable work to make the way through human congestion, trying to occupy though any a place in this world. Though any place on which a little sun and rest got at least.
There is a picture of the coast filled, teeming with unfortunate penguins who have no place to stand. And that they will start dying out soon from some epidemic or incident of elements because the overpopulation reached the critical point.
To be in something mechanism is the exit helping emotions to calm down, not to feel coldness and emptiness, callousness of world around, the approaching darkness. It is much better, than flight in deception and illusions of religions or a temptation of dependences.
On the one hand people remained the same, as were tens of thousands years ago, with another – is irreversible changed. Such unusual fate dropped out to my generation - to get between two worlds, two times: past and future.
We as the died-out dinosaurs, still we remember the past, improbable for today, and already are in the future, improbable for days past. We accepted this future, adapted in it and changed ourselves so that to be effective here and now.
And this efficiency haunts us, somehow feeling that we lost something on the road, something very important, half-forgotten, warm and native. And therefore there is a pain in soul, emptiness and a regret, and there is a wish to get lost in the world of games, to be forgotten and not to feel what not everything goes correctly what to be happy it becomes more difficult. And, when you look back at a train of the lived days, you see empty spots from which it becomes terrible.
Only religious fanatics are in captivity of delusions that they go the correct road, and only they are in safety. These are the people who are afraid to look on at themselves. If they saw true themselves and understood that all their feeble efforts – only illusions, they would be terrified. It would be amusing to look at it, but it is almost impossible because it is people who are forbidden to develop further the primitive level and who never think of rising above. They don't even represent that there is something, beyond their representations and opportunities.
Their hobby – attempts to explain all with the dogmas and to involve the belief which are violently surrounding in a web.
God forbid to appear in a close environment such! If there is a Hell on the earth – that is one of its circles.
Only not the light road mad, easily explaining everything and offering the easy recipes of eternal happiness which are actually appearing recipes of the poison corroding reason and killing free will.
Neither they, nor the world of the beings similar to machines, can't give for what the soul what heart for that mind is eager misses waits.
To find the road, an own way, to be itself – here true happiness! To find forces to turn from the penguin who is trampling down on the tiny patch of the overpopulated piece of soil into the bird who freely spread wings and, having bypassed barriers, to depart there where there is only your, unique and happy, warm place in the world lit with the sun.