In looking back through my life, I think the very thing that has helped me is also the thing that has hurt me. And in a way, this makes sense. Why shouldn’t it be this way, in the human comedy? But the desire to connect, the desire for solidarity, the desire to be with others, help others and be happy, is only what drove me to madness when life funneled me into solitude, and ambition. Success seemed so arbitrary, when pitted as subterfuge. I got smiles for joyless moments of impasse, and was greeted with hostility during intellectual or spiritual revelations.
Another interesting thing is that I got nervous over the most intense periods of joy. Maybe this is related to my previous point — this sort of thing would be most offensive to other people.
All trees are half my eyes, and half yours.