Even those who believe themselves the most intelligent or enlightened are nothing before their own pride, which rises before them like a gigantic tower; a tower looking down on them from above. A giant crushing them beneath its thumb. Their master, their jailer.
They believe they are the tower reflected in the mirror. They believe there is a battle to fight, something important to defend, yet all they do is protect their own chains. They defend the indefensible and justify the unjustifiable. They swallow it all and end up with indigestion.
“Why does everything hurt? Why do I feel so ill?” they ask, as though it had nothing to do with them. They see the false image in the mirror and still do not understand.
Only a madman would be willing to dismantle himself, reconfigure himself, restart, and be reborn. Only a madman would be willing to tear the whole house down and build it anew, to demolish it as many times as necessary. Only someone brave enough not to settle for a miserable existence.