'Time leans on us all, old friend.'I remember saying to him, as he leaned in against me instinctively, reflexively. As if I could protect him against the attack of years. I wonder if he knows this, and I thought some more in the silence that followed what I had said. 'They'll find me too, and then I'll follow you.' The best I could say to the truth of what he may have been thinking. I guess I just hope I was listening too.

And still the thoughts of a young man persist. I imagine they'll carry me to a certain point some time from now. And then one fine day...They'll act on strict orders, and leave me as I found them: Confused. And indifferent, if I'm lucky.

I too can remember being innocent. But that was only because of a dearth of instinct, and a lack of desires. I don't have these problems anymore.

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