Once, there was a young man who was alone a lot. He read a lot of philosophy, listened to the album Lateralus repeatedly for two or three years, and found himself spiraling inward to a dark place of constriction rather than a place outward of luminous or radiant light. The young man was still holding onto New Age ways to solve problems that could not be solved by any positive visualization. He was holding onto the ghost of a girl he had drowned. And he was still getting dressed in the suit she made him that never fit.
One day, the young man was liberated, but only for a limited time.
When he came back to the regular world, he didn't know what to do the experience he had had, an experience that both annihilated self and was nothing but self.
The young man read a lot of a certain philosopher that eventually dictated his entire way of seeing the world.
The young man had to step away from the philosopher so he could reestablish his own uniqe artist's way of relating to the world.
To this day, though, the young man loves this guy.