"Under the spreading chestnut tree
I sold you and you sold me:
There lie they, and here lie we
Under the spreading chestnut tree."
A selfish man can not stand jealousy, lust, or conformity. He is merely hurt and envy surfacing on a little man's bare chest as he treads into nostalgic comma. The selfish man can not make up his mind, oh no, he can not. He is incompetent in many ways; wanting too much, wanting what he knows he will never have. He wants what he can not obtain; always wants to abstain from what he can not obtain, but after centuries of trial and error and error and trial, the selfish man always learns that he can not obtain nor abstain. The selfish man is sensitive and delicate, his ego is entirely a translucent shadow of indecisive jealousy triggered by the spur of indecisive hatred and love. While his bones and ligaments and skin, and his viens and his cells within the plasma of his blood all work as a collective society vaporizing all individualism inside him, his soul is craving to be an individual.
At first the selfish man wanted the wicked woman, but he knew that she will never be his alone and only his. He wanted to obtain her, wanted to keep her away from the reach of the world, wanted to lock her away, wanted to lock her away somewhere where no other man can see her beauty or want that beauty to be his. So he hid her. He hid her away in his thoughts and imprinted her laughter and her youth into his brain. Then he proceeded to abstain from her, abstain from her wicked beauty, and her wicked charm which he had allowed himself to love. The selfish man is also a foolish man, he thought by locking her memory away inside his cognition, and by abstaining from her that he could be and would be able to forget her. To forget the wicked hurt she caused his body, his mind and his heart. But he could not because the wicked woman was apart of him now. Apart of his love and apart of his happiness. Doe he love her because he is happy or is he happy because he loves her? Such a question is unanswerable because it collides with the physics of his feelings. So the selfish man wanted the wicked woman again because he found the wicked woman alluring. But this time, but this time it was different than the previous. As the selfish man grew older, he both wanted and he both demanded that wicked woman to be his and only his, but no matter what, he knew that she will never be. The wicked woman is a vulgar structure of warm denial and strange compassion; a bipolar mess of bitter laughter and sweet tears. This frustration tore the selfish man apart and it ripped open his integrity and central soul. The selfish man wants what he will never have because he does not believe that he will have it. He is a doubting man, a lustful jealous man, a foolish foolish human.
In the end, the selfish man became a miserable man. A miserable, jealous, lustful, and selfish man who was not courageous enough to obtain what he wants or to abstain from what he desires. In the end the selfish man's soul conforms to the demands of his body which eradicates the individual he was.