We are born through pain, and we live in it, and with it. We die in pain. Pain of body, and pain of mind. Neither can be avoided. All that matters, is how we deal with it. We can whinge, or we can laugh at it; get your head down, and carry on regardless. We can bear it, however bad, because we have no option.
We can use it to gain sympathy. And what good is sympathy? None at all. It doesn't help, and cures nothing. Yet people use it on a regular basis, to gain something, if it's only to help them to feel in control of something. Control of others, who are generous enough of nature, and foolish enough to fall for it. It's called hypochondria: the pretence of illness, and its constant invention.
Illness and pain comes to us all, so why pretend when you are in fact well? Is it madness, or manipulative evil? We are sad, and bad creatures either way. The things we do, and the harm we do, are all mixed up in a sort of soup: a soup made of right and wrong, good and bad; good minds, and downright evil ones. Jealously, and hate that burns us up, and wastes our days, that are few enough.
I know I'm not a boy anymore. In my mind I'm still as I always was, but in body, I'm a burnt out old man. Yet I cannot accept it in my deeper mind, even though I know it in my conscious mind. So I'm a fool, not being able to accept my own reality. But who amongst us old fogies can? Who thinks that he's a tough guy, yet shivers if danger of any kind approaches? That goes for young as well as old. Who amongst you will know fear as death approaches, but who will show it? Best side out, and all that.
At the ending of your days, ask yourself, who is fooling who; and is there any point to it? Have you actually made a difference in this miserable greedy world; and if you think that you have, then what difference have you actually made? Can you put your hand on it? Can you feel content with your achievements; and what exactly are they, or were they worth?
What were you worth to anyone, or are you worth anything? A pay check perhaps, if you’re a male? A slave, if female? Were you in fact worth anything in reality to anyone? Who loves or even cares about you, and who will care about you when you're dead? What has your life mattered, or has it mattered at all?
What of the wealth you have worked so hard to get; and lied, and cheated so often to get? Was, or is it worth it, when you hear that footstep of the grim reaper? When you see that shadow of death, coming upon you, at the very moment when the force of life leaves you, how will it be? What will the bookkeepers of life make of your existence? Are you in the black, or are you in the red?
What have you done and what have you left undone? Were you evil, or just stupid? What is the difference, as they both do the same harm?
Were you, or are you evil, of just foolish? Clever or stupid? Perhaps a mixture of both? To the young I say, the clock is ticking, and faster than you think. Every day you wake up is a day less, a day closer. So why waste it in neurotic behaviour? Why waste it, in frivolous behaviour? Why waste it? If you’re old, don't worry about it. If you’re young, you’re too stupid to realize anything whatever you haven't experienced really is. Fight against old age if you must, but remember that there is a sure fire cure for it, just around the next corner. It's sure, certain and permanent. It will go away.
It's amazing that we have to wait till the light dims, in order to see more clearly. They say to “live one day at a time”. What do “They” know? And who are “They” anyway? Young, old, what? Think about it.