But once you've honed every surface of what's cared for what's reflected is not your self, in body or spirit, but geniuses aloft inconceivably remote from you, if artistic~~masters motivated by forms unknown today. The vision is still worse if political, showing all about you to be pawns sacrificed to an order remote to themselves, and intolerable to the pitiful extent it may be articulable. Sharpen either completely; risk slicing into what of yourself and others cannot transcend the childish appetites engendered by accident of birth. Historical alienation joins the bodily. Was this supposed to make you happier with your self? or just momentarily adrift in the feats of others'?