There is a great difference between one idler and another
idler.
There is someone who is an idler out of laziness and lack of character,
owing to the baseness of his nature.
If you like, you may take me for one of
those.
Then there is the other kind of idler, the idler despite himself,
who is
inwardly consumed by a great longing for action
who does nothing because his
hands are tied,
because he is, so to speak, imprisoned somewhere,
because he
lacks what he needs to be productive,
because disastrous circumstances have
brought him forcibly to this end.
Such a one does not always know what he can
do,
but he nevertheless instinctively feels,
I am good for something!
My existence
is not without reason!
I know that I could be a quite a different person!
How
can I be of use, how can I be of service?
There is something inside me, but
what can it be?
He is quite another idler.
If you like you may take me for one
of those.
Vincent Van Gogh
