The narrator is determined to soar as “men were born to” (pg 70), and looks loathingly at all the conformity around him. He doesn’t even bother writing the story for Ayn Rand, although somehow believing that he has the competition in the bag. He is soaring too close to the sun: he is far from a lone wolf surrounded
The narrator is determined to soar as “men were born to” (pg 70), and looks loathingly at all the conformity around him. He doesn’t even bother writing the story for Ayn Rand, although somehow believing that he has the competition in the bag. He is soaring too close to the sun: he is far from a lone wolf surrounded