Growing older, I can't tell whether it's gotten better or worse compared to before -- the feeling, sometimes, of wanting to turn my back on the world.

I always knew that the world was "against me". Not that it was opposed to me singularly, but simply that the world is -- sometimes, often, mostly -- a tough place that doesn't necessarily provide for you, at least not in the way that you might like.

In my younger years I think I felt this more as a sort of oppression; that I holed up in my bunker, awaiting the days when I would venture out into the forest and search for sustenance.

Now, it is different -- there are no bombshells raining down, no shots of gunfire. It is the world itself that has gone darker. It is no longer a matter of resistance. It is a question of subsistence.

Why do I dream? And when will it end?