It'not so much that that the positive sides outweigh the negative. It is, or so I see it, that in order to survive in a sea in tempest, in order to walk on a tightrope over the abyss, you have to construct a survival raft, an inhabitable little fragile home, like the one where Charlot try to avoids to be eaten by the big man in The Gold Rush. Or to use the metaphor of the tightrope, you have to devote all your intellectual efforts to learn the great difficult science of keeping your equilibrium. You cannot choose to pretend normality because normality is out of your reach, and, somehow, you rightly feel affection for your cobweb home, your fragile raft. Your autarchic and solitary home is your home, and you cannot accept many guests. Your is a life in Mars, and you don't know if Venus, or Saturn, or the Earth is better. For us the "wrong planet" is better.
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Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.
--Samuel Beckett