GURDJIEFF, G.I. – Life is real only then, when I am - Integral Book

adiations, there did develop energy enough—perhaps even more thannecessary—for actualizing my aim for which I have this time comehere to you; yet at the same time to the great misfortune—I do notknow, though, whether yours or mine—there was imperceptibly againawakened in me that impulse I have always had, but which never actedduring the time of my writing activity, namely, the impulse of pity forcertain people who have reached majority, and whose vani-tous parentsor tutors, profiting from the absence in these future 'derelicts,' in theirpreparatory age, of their own wisdom, persuaded them, helping themwith money, of course in a manner foreseen in Italian 'bookkeeping,' tobecome in their responsible age 'physician-psychiatrists,' in the presentcase for full-aged unfortunate people vegetating in American-scaleorganized 'lunatic asylums.'"To speak frankly, I am not yet convinced of the exact cause of thereawakening in me of this previously existing undesirable impulse; asyet I only know that the reaction to these data began gradually tomanifest itself owing to the fact that during the reading of the lastchapter of the first series of my writings, while sitting in the corner andobserving out of boredom the expressions on your faces, it seemedclear to me that there stood out on the forehead now of one, now ofanother of you, the inscription 'candidate for the madhouse.'"I said 'out of boredom' because the contents of this chapter, overeach sentence of which I had to think and again to think for threemonths almost day and night, bored me more than your fish called'mackerel' which, during my first stay here, I was compelled to eat forsix months morning and evening, it being the only fresh food youhave."After this, giving to my voice the tone which is taught in monasteriesand is called "the tone of confused humbleness," I added: