Ought to be sleeping already

I have at least six decks of tarot cards and not one can give me what I am looking for: answers.

Answers can take many forms.

If every choice is valid, then it is almost self-explanatory that we should strive to avoid pain and experience happiness.

Now, almost everyone makes the kind of choices that in the long run will make them unhappy. If asked, the answer is almost always the same.

"I didn't know."

Didn't you?

It seems absurd to me that we spend such a big part of our lives getting to "know better" and then, once we do know better, we are too old to choose between wisdom and passion. There is only wisdom as a choice, because passion has departed forever. We are too old to be passionate without being ridiculous. We are too old, period. We are way past our prime, way past the age we inspired others to be naughty, daring, to seek moments of passion within our arms, in our company.

It's just absurd.

I see the first light of dawn seeping through the balcony door and I wonder: is it too early? Or too late?

Does it matter?

I have to choose wisely.

I always have to choose.

There is not enough time.

Time is an illusion of the mammal brain.

Time makes me most unhappy.

Time heals all wounds to replace them with new ones.

Time is a tyrant.

There is no escape.

There must be another way to do things.

There must be something.

I will just sleep now.

Sleep lies outside the clutches of time.

Ah.