The arrow of time points forwards, yet directions are quite pointless from a cosmic perspective: to which direction is "upwards" when you're wandering through the spacetime continuum like the lonely twin Voyagers?
Satellites are free falling towards a cosmic body without ever reaching its surface (and that's the very definition of "orbiting"), because they got enough horizontal/perpendicular velocity to circumnavigate the cosmic body's sphere of influence they're submitted to. However, there's no such thing as "perpendicular" direction (not in the classical sense) when it comes for chronological movement, because everything is undergoing a single yet complex vector: that very arrow of time. Things are chronologically free-falling towards the inescapable _some-when_, without any means to circumnavigate it.
The "past", as we call the "previous" part of our trajectory across the timeline, isn't some-when we can physically return to. There's no travel to the "past", only a gradual travel to the "future". An unidirectional linked list of causality which only points to the immediate next memory address, never to the previous one.
In order to predict what would happen farther from the immediate moment (a Planck moment defined by the previous, inaccessible Planck moments), one would need to account for every single factor, physical and chemical, contributing to that very moment before it happened, and the very attempt of predicting it, unbeknownst to them, would also influence that moment trying to be predicted. It's the butterfly effect, to which no solution exists.
So we can't possibly know much farther, just the next iteration of this cosmic Algodoo. The immediate next line of the script the baryonic matter is going to dramaturgically play at this cosmic stage: to be or not to be? That's the question... whose answer was already written by a cosmic, invisible Shakespeare. All it's left to matter-made things is to watch as the next Planck moment unfolds from our so-called "future" to our so-called "past".
It's a free-falling towards a chronological ground, which makes me wonder: what the infinitesimal Planck time is like, right before the two masses could physically meet, right before the gravitational force meets a subatomic opposing force (Newton's Third Law)? What the collapse from a cascade of double pendulums is like, what it _feels_ like? Yes, because it's a haunting approximation of what cosmos is like: an invisible fractal of double pendulums, intertwined, deterministic yet unpredictable.
Simultaneously beyond and within the deterministic cosmic sandbox lies the (literal) Mother of all motion forces: She whose invisible hands dominates and finger-flicks the domino pieces composing the very fabric of spacetime, with a mix of heavy, unstoppable force and (alluring, almost sensual) delicacy from a soft hand.
What is it like at the very Planck moment from the impending and inevitable meeting between the ricocheting tip of Her index finger (full of elastic potential accumulated by the previous pressure force from Her index finger towards the back of Her thumb finger) and the cosmic dust that composes physical matter?
O Highness, fiery and cold darkness, throwest me with the untammable force of Thy Wrath, blowest me with the irresistible storm of Thy Lips.
There's a strong pull towards Her Dark Matter, counteracted by the (also) strong elastic potential from the finger-flicking, surpassing any other cosmic force and projecting matter towards infinity, provoking a domino effect before the Kessler syndrome.
"For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction". Except when it comes from an asymmetrical force, beyond the cosmic constraints of the ordinary matter... to which there _is_ an opposite reaction: one that can't be possibly equal to Her action. Not in the sense that the reaction "opposes" Her (because nothing could effectively defy such ineffable force), but in the sense that the reaction, you know, "reacts", passively, helpless.
Science got some names: entropy, arrow of time, red-shifting... Entropy is how energy disperses over time, often irreversibly. The arrow of time is how everything chronologically falls from the "past" to the "future", inevitably. The red-shifting is how everything is becoming increasingly farthest and farthest from everything else, so not even light is fast enough to roam across the cosmos in order to defy the primordial chaos of the looming darkness.
Perhaps the finger-flickering already happened and we're just being projected towards the infinity, only to inevitably meet with Her again, as if the entire universe ended within itself: the farthest ending boundaries of cosmos are, in reality, its own beginning, akin to a hyperbolic space, an Ouroboros curling within itself:
I saw... [Her] hands covering the entire firmament, from east to west... I saw... [Her] fiery eyes, like a million suns, [darker than the deepest abyss, colder than the absolute zero]... I was frozen by terror [and awe]...
_That_ is the Newton's Third Law: the opposite reaction, not defying, but flying under the dark veil of Her cosmic wings. I wonder how is it like, to be there, at this very moment when any illusion of agency is crushed by Her untamed Will, physically by the inevitable ground, metaphysically by Her inevitable presence. And I'm closer and closer to this very moment, which makes me wonder: what is it like?
O Supreme fierce and careless Mother, Thy Primordial Chaos dominatest all the helpless cosmic order! There's nowhere one could flee, for nothing could possibly hide from Thee.