If I could but superglue my point of view to your attention span for a nanosecond, I'd like to point something out. When you don't say something, you end up mulling it till it ripens and eventually festers or blossoms. We want to share the blossoms but too often end up sharing the festers.
As we generate an endless stream of possibilities, we smack headlong into The Impossibles, those people who can't let go of a thought, acting as human possibility dams, interrupting the flow to create an artificial lake of reality, a doctrine to adhere to. Point out that the stream might have meandered in another direction had the dam not been built and you're showing disobedience to the dam, which damn well wants to stay put. It's generating profits and damn the flow. The Impossibles think that the possibilities are over. All that's possible - is. All that's impossible - is not. They can't even imagine the possibilities.
The Impossibles are a drag to humanity. They only repeat things. Anything new goes in one ear and out the same one, without bothering to pass through the brain.
Age has nothing to do with it. Hell, I'm almost old and my brain still works. And the more it works, the more possible ways of looking at things show up. The more I keep looking, the less impossibilities I see. Hey, it's possible to be famous for doing absolutely nothing any better than anyone else could be doing it, so there you go.
It's possible that all of mankind can be divided between The Possibles and The Impossibles. The Impossibles think I'm going straight to hell for saying this, but I say let the possibilities flow. There doesn't have to be a rapture. I'm much more worried about the dammed than the damned.