The Sister of Stagnation is Happiness

Listen, you're very happy, aren't you?
You seem so very happy to me.
I don't like thinking about it.
Happy people are such helpless creatures.
Dwelling in happiness, one eventually becomes stagnant and ineffectual.

I want you to have some incompleteness, some unfulfillment, some restlessness, some unhappiness.
I want some fierce melancholy to surround you.
Without these things, a person doesn't quite become human.
Someone with no sorrow in them looks ugly to me.

Unhappy people feel so close to me.
And you feel so distant.
I like seeing you unhappy. But then, even your slightest unhappiness gives me a headache!
I want to see you the way I want to see you, but when you become what I want, I don't like it anymore.
I can only bear one version of you, and I cannot bear that same version of you.
What is it that I want? I don't even know myself! Damn it! I don't want to live like this!

I have several thousand crore tiny, fragmented sorrows. You don't have such sorrows, but the one or two sorrows you do have are so much larger in size than all my sorrows put together.

Still, you're better off; it's more comforting to have one large sorrow than to have so many small ones. After a while, big sorrows go away, but small sorrows one must carry for a lifetime. Big sorrows can indeed be overcome, but when you try to get rid of small sorrows, somehow more small sorrows appear from nowhere!

I want there to be some sorrow in your happiness, some happiness in your sorrow too.