Thoughts
I always have considered myself as an total introvert with some notes of misanthropy as well, but it seems that I’ve been always imposing myself the wrong standards and frankly, I figured it out due to some zany book characters that probably are utopian and would’ve never existed in real world.
Obviously, the best case-scenario would be Howard Roark from one of my most favorite books that I’ve read for whole my miserable life - The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. Pillars of individualism, self-driven and self-made atlas that were built around this hero couldn’t be more attractive for me. I’ve always was chocked by his way of doing things, having his own opinions, thoughts, way of doing things, his own style and signature. But it seems that romantic aura around that character was always been understood wrong by me. I’ve always been feeling envy due to the fact that this character found a sphere that he was completely devoted to. But usually it doesn’t happen in real life in that way, it’s pretty rear occasion when a person knows what he will be doing in the beginning of the game and was always been bothering and irritating me. I guess that’s how the world works and I’m coming to conclusion that belletristic literature сould as harmful as the drinking/drugs could be.
“Freedom (n.): To ask nothing. To expect nothing. To depend on nothing.”