The Garden of Light and Darkness - Part 10 (incomplete)

The night of the full moon is soft and beautiful, studded with stars, and my anguish is all the greater for it, just as I wish it to be. If I must fall and fail, let it be in ecstatic suffering! Let me weep and rage! Norwegians are a people of petty rationalism, denying themselves every emotion unless it is socially sanctioned or falls within narrow rational bounds—and that is their great failing. No wonder their souls are scarred, and the goddess Psyche has fled, supplanted by a Jewish god. I am not like that. Nor will I ever be. I deny myself nothing—me, whom the world has denied so much. Why should I? I refuse to negotiate my emotions or have my despair defined merely to fit some weakling's neat little system of categories, so that he can feel safe within some self-referential system—the very definition of madness. Reason? I curse it. Rationality? I abandon it. Purpose? Never had one to begin with.