I’m unhappy because … because I’ve no desire, no wish to live. You’re giving me doubting looks, you’re thinking—that’s the “aristocrat” speaking who wears lace and sits in a velvet armchair. I can’t hide the fact that I love what you call “comfort”, and yet at the same time I have little desire to live. Reconcile that contradiction how you will. Besides, in your eyes it’s all romanticism.
