Ned, indeed, does not notice any marked similarity, because he doesn't think of himself in terms anywhere near as positive as those. The only thing that seems to him a possible point of crossover is what Ginsberg says about him being mysterious. Ned's been called mysterious by enough people to know that it's not always a compliment. Mysterious can be an accusation.

"You ever wonder what he's doing, these days?" Ned asks, closing his eyes for a moment. He likes sitting like this, being able to feel Ginsberg's chest rising and falling, "I wonder about that kind of thing all the time. Eugene's parents moved him to a different school, because he was so miserable. I don't even know where I'd start to look, if I wanted to find out where he is these days. For all I know he's dead, or a millionaire, or living a block away. And Chuck-" he hesitates here, before he concludes, "-I'm not sure I want to know how her life turned out, actually. What if it was awful?"

He's slipping, without meaning to, without realizing it, back into the shallows of that melancholy that's been threatening to drag him under all day.