“You know, I’ve thought a lot about this. Maybe it’s true. It’s nice when somebody tries to understand others. But the worst thing is when they understand them wrong. Nobody understands me. And I no longer want them to. I’ve removed myself that far away from people that I sometimes don’t even bother to understand their behavior. If there’s any freedom in this world, then it is certainly greater for someone who isn’t bound to other people or a collective rather than for an individual who can’t live without people, needs them for his life and his existence and who can’t imagine himself living any differently than together. But do I have this freedom in myself or is it still being forced? I don’t know. Even if I’m alone, Sir, I’m happy. I’m happier without people. Firstly, they rejected me and now I should go back to them, with humbleness? No, I won’t do that. I don’t value myself that high to be against them, but I’ll never be with them. Just my hatred will protest, a hatred that won’t do any damage to anyone but myself. People won’t find me anymore, I’ve changed so much that it’ll be a futile task for them to do so. It’s too late. I want the loneliness not to be a burden for me. I try to be happy living in it, despite all the sadness and bitterness.”