Misery, the outside observation of, makes good company, to those unaware of how to properly define it, ie. those who suffer from it. A tragic situation as defined by those who note the miserable wretch. While the senile, the dementia patient, is protected within thereof, only suseptable to the effects of the elements of his aging body and the slow degredation of a fragile mind, for dementia and the the like atrophy the brain. This fantasy, in all its vibrant color, as seen by his caretakers, slowly grows dark as his eyes fix on a comfortable, static object in his room. As once what was dark in the unaccessed recess of his cognizant mind, grows bright with an understanding of everything he could never have but now posesses in fantasy; true, tangible, realizable understanding. Thru the dark, placid unseeing eyes its now the light wherein now he dwells. Is it there? Only he knows. Perhaps not, but I have yet to see a dementia patient who protests of his situation. To the observer this it tragic, but to said old man who suffers from it, it is a release and a new life, a rebirth of sorts. So is life. We may all understand this lack of understanding someday, sooner or later, perhaps not in life but in death, whether it be in darkness or in light. No matter what you believe, there is two sides to every fence. As long as the body functions, you can live on either side of it. Good? Bad? That is really up to the individual. Once upon a time I knew you...you said we would meet again some, sunny day...Tiss cold no longer...how warm and soft can be the anticipation, unseen...My god, it's full of stars...I grow tired and must sleep, wake me when it is time to do so...blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

Depression is a virtue...I seem to be a good man indeed...:) Digression is the direction of a mind in regression...
Sorry bout the OT, just some deep thoughts, however poorly phrased they might be! :)