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Life is nothing how he expected it would be when he was young and living under the delusion that things could be controlled. Nothing can be controlled. Only endured.
It is the lonely hour of the night, one with which he is all too familiar—when the city sleeps but you don’t, and all the regrets of your life rage in your mind with an unbearable intensity.
“I think balance is for people who don’t know why they’re here.”
Maybe their abstraction serves as an anesthetic, a buffer protecting us from the agony of time and all that it steals and erases.
Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards. — SØREN KIERKEGAARD
