People need to understand that there is not now, nor will there ever be, the existence of time travel. Think about it. If time travel existed, we’d already know. Someone from the future would have come to inform us. I’m sure of it.
Now I know we all cite Back to the Future as a guide of sorts for navigating the space-time continuum, but that’s a movie. It’s fiction. Sure, Doc Brown says you don’t go back in time and screw everything up by talking to your past self or blowing the secrets of time travel, but come on. Look at Marty McFly. The dude nearly had an aneurysm trying to play by the rules in 1955. And I consider him a unique human being. You really think your average time traveler would be able to go back and forth without effing everything up? No. No freakin’ way.
Personally, I’ve already made a pact with myself that if time travel does exist at any point in my lifetime, I’ll come back from the future at precisely fifteen seconds from now and let myself know. You’re probably wondering if I’m kidding. I am not. And guess what, I didn’t show up. So time travel doesn’t exist. At least not in my lifetime. Because if it did, I’d be talking to Future Me right now. Unless I die young. Like Tupac. In which case, I better start writing future-dated articles to be released posthumously. I want that weird, cryptic, he’s-still-alive-somewhere-I-just-know-it legacy. We should all want that. It freaks people out. And what better feeling is there than the one you get punking people from heaven? I imagine there’s nothing greater.