Have any of you read Aldous Huxley's The Genius and the Haruhidess? I thought it might be relevant to some of you, and it was really quite good. Here's a choice quote.

"Broken reeds are seldom good mixers. They're far too busy with their ideas, their sensuality and their psychosomatic complaints to be able to take an interest in other people-even their own wives and children. They live in a state of the most profound voluntary ignorance, not knowing anything about anybody, but abounding in preconceived opinions about everything. Take the education of children, for example. Henry could talk about it as an authority. He had read Piaget, he had read Dewey, he had read Montessori, he had read the psychoanalysts. It was all there in his cerebral filing cabinet, classified, categorized, instantly available. But when it came to doing something for Ruth and Timmy, he was either hopelessly incompetent or, more often, he just faded out of the picture. For of course they bored him. All children bored him. So did the overwhelming majority of adults. How could it be otherwise? Their ideas were rudimentary and their reading, non-existent.What had they to offer? Only their sentiments and their moral life, only their occasional wisdom and their frequent and pathetic lack of wisdom. In a word, only their humanity. And humanity was something in which poor Henry was incapable, congenitally, of taking an interest."

I'm basically Henry Maartens without the genius. All of my relationships have mostly disintegrated and, whether quickly or not, sloughed off. The very few that remain are these unbalanced and not an equal give and take. I don't care about people, I don't care about humanity. I am adrift in a sea; a world of ideas. There is nothing else here for me. I live now without love. I always have.

What do you think, /so/? Can you relate?