It's something to do with infinity and when you're older you know that infinity doesn't exist. You've lost the courage to imagine it. You can almost smell encroaching old age it's so close and you fear it. You fear not managing. You fear stumbling round the kitchen in a baggy acrylic cardigan and trousers that smell of urine, groping for the kettle with your arthritic fingers and barely seeing where the teabags are through your rheumy eyes and also because you've forgotten and there's nobody there to remind you except the underpaid under-trained nineteen year old care worker who pops in to change your leg bag at lunch-time - at least you hope it's going to be her and not the sixty-three year old care worker who steals from your wallet because she's angry and bitter about the dreadful state of her life and she's got no pension till she's seventy-one and her partner left her for a bloke and her daughter's an internet escort and she's lost all her money buying scratchcards and tattoos and paying off Wonga loans. During those flat grey hours in your cold and empty house you look back on your cold and empty life and forwards to a cold and empty death. You look up at the night sky as you struggle up the icy path to put the bin out and you don't wonder as you did when you were young, you don't see wonder, you can't, you only see that the stars are cold and distant and most of them don't even exist any more anyway. they're dead. You're living on a planet spinning in a hopeless void and you've hardly any time left and it's all been for nothing and you don't know why.
Enjoy your day!