Adultery

by Paulo Coelho

We’ll be retired, and will spend our time washing our cars even if we can perfectly well afford to pay someone else to do it for us. After a certain age, you have to do irrelevant things—to pass the time, to show others that your body is still in working order,

The fact is, I’m tired of having such a happy, perfect life. And that can only be a sign of mental illness.

But doesn’t it help to know you’re not alone? Isn’t talking about depression’s effects good for other people, too? “No, not at all. If you’ve just emerged from hell, you don’t want to know what life is like down there right now.”

This is my problem; the volcano has exploded and there’s no way to put the lava back inside, plant some trees, mow the grass, and let the sheep out to graze.