Time is a concept caught in blurred images. We have no real memory except that projected by our limited intelligence. Our imagination captures what it can capture and that, it makes our past. It's not a very different equation with the future. Our imagination captures our minds' projections and maps it to our being. That sums up our existence. Encapsulated in this whole chain of time perception, we're living a dream dictated by our minds.
The irony is that I breed my past inside me. It's captured securely and yet affects my imagination in a very passive yet strong way. It's an agony which is mine to cherish. It's a learning which is mine to hold.