A few young friends… and I remember when I was the young friend.
40 seemed old, but after 50 one really begins “old.”
It’s ok. And then you do know, appreciate the ups, because the downs will come again.
The Wheel of Fortune never stops turning in this life, a purgatory where an unceasing longing pulsates rhythmically for something like the equivalent of a flatline of continuous ecstasy …because there is nothing “continuous” about this life, except maybe the will to experience an eternal state of ecstasy.
Then there’s that thing in the way of “happiness” that we imagine as eternity, which we cannot, in fact imagine – having never experienced a state of unending continuity, stability, lasting peace.
Maybe though, that state is what we witness as death, a body which no longer moves.
Time to “fake” “sleep.”