Here I am again, creeping too close to the edge. I did that once before and killed my blog in the process, replacing it with one younger, more vibrant, and immune to the wisdom of experience. But it's not immune really, is it? Reality strikes me hard in the face when it's least expected and least welcomed.
Youth is wasted, even on those who think they appreciate the wisdom of age. They don't. They can't. And they never will. They can't because they are afflicted with youth. Youth is a fatal experience with a blank and, for some, unhappy ending.
It's not my intent to be dull and gray and depressing. I could deceive myself, the way I often do, and behave as if I were deliriously happy. But that would be the epitome of deceit, awash in the odor of despair.
So, truth will out, in the end. We shall all know the truth, and it will crush our spirits and end our existence.
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