“Why do you act as if you live in an ivory tower, far removed from the rest of us?” This was spoken in a tone designed to inflict maximum pain. As is the wont of 14 year old girls, especially in the presence of a captive audience. But you, safe in your ivory tower, just grinned noting that your pigtails were much shorter compared to hers. So the moment passed. The conversation moved on to Agatha Christie, P.G. Wodehouse and Jane Austen. As it did ever so often in those days. Till one fine day everyone lost touch.
Some twenty years later she is a doctor, married to another doctor, mother to two sons, living in a tower in New York but strangely has nothing much to say about anybody or anything.
You, well, you read Nietzsche. You never did have anything to say about anybody or anything.
Amusingly you too live in a tower – you call it “ my citadel*”.
*Every superior human being will instinctively aspire after a secret citadel where he is set free from the crowd, the many, the majority.
(Man alone with himself- Friedrich Nietzsche)