Alright so he hates it that he is getting older. They have been telling him this from the moment he was born, and they repeat it each and every day in which he awakes and finds himself. Older and older and on and on with little or no hope of this inevitable process relenting in any way possible. He thinks, again. Imagine that the real truth is already "that while he might be assuming he is aging, the complete opposite is what it is all about." There is this small wrinkle in time which everyone (including he) has forgotten about, passed right over like a bird in flight. A lofty escape from fright. An oversight. All of which puts him in an awkward position when the time of truth finally arrives. And then what is he expected to say, admit, describe? As if he ever could make any sense out of it at all.