Better to live your first 50 years in hell. So that your future might stand a chance against the past. But no real need to do such a thing. Your future can never win. Your past had more time. More possibilities. And more youth. Infinite youth to your everyday before today. Your every, finger snapping, instant.
Less young. Less young. Less young.
You can’t compete with that as you can’t win against a stacked deck. The key is to realize that fact. To play the game with that knowledge. Getting up from the table is not an option.
You have to best the house.
Ultimately this life has to be like a dream. A fantasy. Because reality, the truth is, is only misery. We can make it what we want, as much as is allowed. But it is the fantasy that makes it work. The reality however, is the truth. Truth is the only salvation. And the truth is possibly horrifying.
What is more important? I know it’s Truth. But do I? Answer why it is. At some point, I must answer that. All I need is to know the truth. But quite possibly I cannot beat the house with it. Quite possibly the truth is we’ve forsaken the truth because we have to do so, or lose.