I think being sociable is just a hysterical way of being alone, and my mind often wanders in a crowded room to a quiet place far from the world. I could be cracking a joke, revealing a piece of gossip or doing the police in different voices, but my true self, as I sentimentally think of it, is always nostalgic for the life one lives by oneself. Not everyone is calm alone, but I am – and I think John Donne got it all wrong. Every man is an island. Every man and every woman: an island, a government, a parcel of selfhood wrapped in doubts. Of course, one hears the sound from other islands and swims there often, but isn’t our home in isolation?
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