Age Is Never So Old As Youth

Had The Cub Thought In Man-fashion, He Might Have Epitomized Life As A Voracious Appetite, And The World As A Place Wherein Ranged A Multitude Of Appetites, Pursuing And Being Pursued, Hunting And Being Hunted, Eating And Being Eaten, All In Blindness And Confusion, With Violence And Disorder, A Chaos Of Gluttony And Slaughter, Ruled Over By Chance, Merciless, Planless, Endless.

Food And Fire, Protection And Companionship, Were Some Of The Things He Received From The God. In Return, He Guarded The God's Property, Defended His Body, Worked For Him, And Obeyed Him.

He Was Justifying His Existence, Than Which Life Can Do No Greater; For Life Achieves Its Summit When It Does To The Uttermost That Which It Was Equipped To Do.

But, – And There It Is, – We Want To Live And Move, Though We Have No Reason To, Because It Happens That It Is The Nature Of Life To Live And Move, To Want To Live And Move. If It Were Not For This, Life Would Be Dead. It Is Because Of This Life That Is In You That You Dream Of Your Immortality.

Man Is A Flux Of States Of Consciousness, A Flow Of Passing Thoughts, Each Thought Of Self Another Self, A Myriad Thoughts, A Myriad Selves, A Continual Becoming But Never Being, A Will-of-the-wisp Flitting Of Ghosts In Ghostland.