the paradox [Theme] Page 2

The rains have gone... In the morning fog spreading like a huge feathery cloud. Not see the house across the street, the Windows shrouded in steam, the trees like cotton. All around - soft, plush, weightless. I love these in the morning. The calm, the silence, the feeling of a fairy tale. Today, Socrates woke up at five in the morning, something was trying to say, then curled up and fell asleep.
I think he was trying to whisper about how nice to be idle and quiet. I know it is. Without prompting homegrown philosophers. Idleness has taught. Work, including. Paradox? Not at all. Try to spend alone and idle at least twenty-one days. The duration of the quarantine. If you don't decide by the end of the second week to commit suicide from the opened abyss, then begin a new existence. Nothing feels human freedom. It is one thing to obey conventions, to compel myself to work, as a duty, another thing to realize the desire of his heart. But first - a painful return to his real "I". All the breaking of the three-pillar human beings. Flour weakened by the twenty-first day. Why? Say that updated blood composition. And where there is blood there is the spirit. The test is not easy. Sometimes, at night will be without the usual worldly pleasures, and then frantically found the button, which wants to escape from himself, his self. Noise comfortable because it allows you to listen to the silence. There will come from the heavenly bells? Well, as something terrible? Run from yourself, do not want to stop and take a break. I'm afraid to be alone with freedom.
From birth we fall into the slavery conventions. And then can't stand freedom.
(Psychologist and a psychopath)