Immature in Palermo

I feel more alive when I'm immature.

It may be Nietzchean--that upwelling of a primal force which maturity is supposed to tamp down but which, allowed to go unchecked, is a wellspring.

The problem, however, is anger. Or is it a problem? Nietzche understood a philosopher, which every immature person inherently is, as "a terrible explosive, endangering everything."

Only immature people think about the meaning of their lives anymore; to think about the meaning of life, and to admit to yourself and to others that you're thinking about the meaning of life, is a sure sign of immaturity.

At first I thought someone had accidently spilled blue paint on the sidewalk in Palermo, and tried to rectify the accident with white rags.

It was only when I'd passed the accident and looked back on it that I saw it as a piece of art, and intentional.