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At the root of jealousy is a fear of abandonment, and we had no possibility of abandonment in that place.
Why did I want to leave a world of minimalist perfection, to explore something unknown?
To the extent that heaven above is isolation, it seems to be hell. To the extent that hell below is a crowd, it apparently is heaven. Maybe we are condemned to an endless nagging sense of discomfort balanced against comfort, satisfaction against the itch to escape.
Let it be a long search. Let them come up here, if I ever do find them, and fight with me. Let them bring all their quirks and annoyances that I know very well. Ten thousand other people are probably better suited to me and deserve the luxury above the muck, but it doesn’t matter. My friends have precedence.
