"How do you move in a world of fog, that’s always changing things. Makes me wish that I could be a dog"
-- Tom Waits, "I don't wanna grow up"

Vanni says that thinking too much about the fact that you are getting old, makes you even older. I haven't seen him in five years and he still has that power to make most of my arguments powerless.
He is right, of course. Why do I think so much about it?
"The lost occasions" I defend. They proportionally or even exponentially can increase your anguish to grow up and get old.
"Not to think about it is the answer" he says. "They do not exist."
Yeah I always thought that. It's like the others-- or life itself --keep putting them before your eyes without a good reason. But it's hard or pointless to explain that I also need to speculate on the sheer fact of growing old and wasting the time of life away. Or think out the mystery. Because there is no actual way not to waste time, since this is the only compromise possible in being alive unless you want to embrace the rules of nature in their entirety, which would be a nightmare, although not a waste of time --if you're lucky.
"Why would that be?" Vanni asks.
Because the reasons of genes and selections, which I would never doubt since they are a scientific fact, are also one of the most depressing things on earth. They cause immense suffering and injustice and any decent life of a free person should be imagined with at least one foot and one hand outside those boundaries.
"It can be fine inside the boundaries" Vanni says.

I never really could find a pal whom with share my speculations. The maddening efforts to describe the trap aren't really worth it to most of us. But on the other hand I always masturbated alone.