The things I'm afraid of secretly thrill me. Although I'm usually too afraid of them to realize this. Only with the advent of spring does this little secret appear from time to time through the mist, making my heart pound with the knowledge that I really am invincible. There is really nothing so satisfying as to absolutely squash adversity underfoot with a sneer.
In the paraphrased words of the Irish Poet Brendan Behan, the only things that really matter are that I have something to eat, something to drink, and someone to love. By those standards I'm doing pretty well. And to borrow some words from Mr. Behan again, "I have a total irreverence for anything connected with society except that which makes the roads safer, the beer stronger, the food cheaper and the old men and old women warmer in the winter and happier in the summer". Sometimes I wish I was just a little more clever or felt just a bit younger but then I'm cheered as I look outside and remember how beautiful the world is, whether I'm clever or not.