Whilst honestly accepting my inadequacies, my oddities, those part of my psychological makeup that make it difficult if not impossible to meld with the corps general, I am ever inclined to resist grating too eagerly upon the exposed base of the great illusion that is normality. To do so would weaken society’s supporting root whilst also blunting one of my most used kitchen devices, which without excessive crow I might claim to be wit of perhaps elucidating perspective. Keeping the world at arm’s length is good practice for the philosopher, writer or even simply the independent thinker, for too much familiarity with the workings and workers of thus great organism instills responsibilities, feelings of relationship, the need to support of even excuse seemingly necessary activities alien to personal postulation.
Independence is the ultimate avoidance. Shedding the skin of culpability, fault, or blame, for all and any outcome, no matter how coincidental they might be. A simultaneously accepting and denial of serendipity.