There is nothing very 'normal' about nature.
Modern man lives increasingly in the future and neglects the present.
What if I am, in some way, only a sophisticated fire that has acquired an ability to regulate its rate of combustion and to hoard its fuel in order to see and walk?
I no longer cared about survival...I merely loved.
The secret, if one may paraphrase a savage vocabulary, lies in the egg of night.
Choices, more choices than we like afterward to believe, are made far backward in the innocence of childhood.