Now that I have seen one swamp, I feel I have seen them all. All food tastes the same. The air may be hot or cold, it makes no difference. The car I drive becomes exceedingly more expensive yet I feel no excitement. I grow stronger and better looking with each passing month yet this doesn’t fill me with the sin of pride as it once did. Everything that once filled me with enjoyment I regard with ambivalence.
Surely there must be more to life. What has happened? This feels beyond the normal doldrums. I truly feel that if I were to sit here and wither away, it would be no matter. To use the language of the stoics, apatheia best describes how I feel–entirely without passions. In the universe of Planescape, one truly dies when all passions are lost, the last of which is the passion of life, fed by all the others. Where monks in both Christian and Eastern religious sects may have regarded apatheia as one step towards an enlightened state, or once again in the language of the stoics, “ataraxia,” it brings me instead unnervingly close to the edge of the railing.
I analyzed yesterday’s dream with a Jungian lens. The woman pulling at my foot signifies my clear and obvious desire for companionship. It is evident that my happiness can only be real to me when I share it.