It’s true, i’ve wasted my life. Fifty years old, half a century, and he’s never going to do any of the things he was once certain he would do. Not read the classics at a famous university or learnt a foreign language or travelled the world or marry a woman he loves.  Not hold real power in his hands. Not going to bend fate to his will. Not even going to finish his novel, because, let’s contine to be honest, after nearly twenty years he hasn’t really started it. Not ever going to do much of anything