The depressed people are the sane ones.  My post is merely
'existential angst' caused by knowledge of the world and myself as I
really am.With knowledge comes unhappiness and happiness is the
happiness of ignorance.

Ever read the short story of 'Green Magic'?  That story is available

I am like 'Howard Fair' and I suffered the same fate in the story that
he did.


"Where do you go?" Fair asked in wonder and longing. "May I go with

The sprite, swirling a drape of bright green dust over its shoulders,
shook his head. "You would be less than comfortable."

"Other men have explored the worlds of magic!"

"True: your uncle Gerald McIntyre, for instance."

"My uncle Gerald learned green magic?"

"To the limit of his capabilities. He found no pleasure in his
learning. You would do well to profit by his experience and modify
your ambitions." The sprite turned and walked away.


Jaadian assented. "You have not accepted my advice."

Fair shrugged. "You asked me to remain ignorant, to accept my
stupidity and ineptitude."

"And why should you not?" asked Jaadian gently. "You are a primitive
in a primitive realm; nevertheless not one man in a thousand can match
your achievements."

Fair agreed, smiling faintly. "But knowledge creates a craving for
further knowledge. Where is the harm in knowledge?"


By stages so gradual he never realized them he learned green magic.

But the new faculty gave him no pride: between his crude ineptitudes
and the poetic elegance of the sprites remained a tremendous gap, and
he felt his innate inferiority much more keenly than he ever had in
his old state. Worse, his most earnest efforts failed to improve his
technique, and sometimes, observing the singing joy of an improvised
manifestation by one of the sprites, and contrasting it to his own
labored constructions, he felt futility and shame.


In one terrible bittersweet spasm, he gave up. He found Jaadian
weaving tinkling fragments of various magics into a warp of shining
long splines. With grave courtesy, Jaadian gave Fair his attention,
and Fair laboriously set forth his meaning.

Jaadian returned a message. "I recognize your discomfort, and extend
my sympathy. It is best that you now return to your native home."


Howard Fair sat in his apartment. His perceptions, augmented and
sharpened by his sojourn in the green realm, took note of the
surroundings. Only two hours before, by the clocks of Earth, he had
found them both restful and stimulating; now they were neither. His
books: superstition, spuriousness, earnest nonsense. His private
journals and workbooks: a pathetic scrawl of infantilisms. Gravity
tugged at his feet, held him rigid. The shoddy construction of the
house, which heretofore he never had noticed, oppressed him.
Everywhere he looked he saw slipshod disorder, primitive filth. The
thought of the food he must now eat revolted him.


... "Sometimes I wish I could abandon all my magic and return to my
former innocence."

"I have toyed with the idea," McIntyre replied thoughtfully. "In fact
I have made all the necessary arrangements. It is really a simple
matter." He led Fair to a small room behind the station. Although the
door was open, the interior showed a thick darkness.

McIntyre, standing well back, surveyed the darkness with a quizzical
curl to his lip. "You need only enter. All your magic, all your
recollections of the green realm will depart. You will be no wiser
than the next man you meet. And with your knowledge will go your
boredom, your melancholy, your dissatisfaction."

Fair contemplated the dark doorway. A single step would resolve his

He glanced at McIntyre; the two surveyed each other with sardonic
amusement. They returned to the front of the building.

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