The only way forward is to seek a reversal in how we think and feel. Men mistakenly believe they can grow and develop in a general way, all the while losing themselves in negative reactions at every turn. They take no notice of the repetition of their silly grunts and howls, leaking their vitality throughout the day, so leaving them with nothing to bring to the morrow. Men react and are by that fact always catching up to the present. A clever man will say that he, on the contrary, is always looking to the future and planning ahead. And it is true that he does, yet always by the hand of his peculiar sense of fantasy. His anticipations are like roulette bets, and his belly is made tight like a gambler praying to lady luck. This is a low order of faith that he brings to the table; far removed from the higher variety; the sort that forgives in advance for every whimsical fruit that fate delivers to his doorstep. Can he not clearly see the impact he himself has on his future? If he were removed from it altogether — that is, this incessant inner narrative and all of the never-ending anxieties that come to bear because of it — and his life was played out by a foreign sense of self, this life of his could happen in exactly the same way, with exactly the same pattern of events, and yet his heart would be saved from suffering all the pangs of self-judgment that he otherwise never tires to feed himself with.