My philosophies are all encompassing, without edge, or boundary. I do not claim for them universality, that would be impossibly vain and provably false, rather they are all over the place, higgeldy piggeldy, without rhyme or reason, ramblings recognizable as aged, disturbed, as wholly illogical thought process. I suffer, we all suffer such a condition, rapidly exacerbating, continually compounding, degenerating most predictably with the gathering of experience and the following postulation, attestation.
All such observations, illustrations, seem very astute, but are based largely upon a erroneous assumption, that the procrastinator has insight above and beyond the everyday, a spyglass pointed direct at meanings and influences outside any true knowledge or expertise. Recently, I have withdrawn to a reticent silence, fully echoing my senses lack of words, presenting in public and private the aura of watcher, detached, uninvolved with everyday happenings and concerns. A life most simple, floating apparent care within upon this turbulent ocean.