"Success
has more pitfalls than failure, you know. Failure...it's a
closed door, so what, you go back to ground that's familiar to you.
Comfortable even. But success, that's an open door, and beyond's a chute,
and you slip quickly into unknown territory, and people with the gamut of
unknown motivations fasten themselves onto you and climb atop you and
fondle you to get you to exude the nourishing sugary psychic milk all
humans crave.
"The ants farm you,
make your milieu comfortable with green juicy stalks
bursting with sap, and now and then they climb atop you and tickle you
with their forelegs, and before you know it, you've had a psychic orgasm
which they quickly lap up, and you loll drained while they leap onto the
next aphid in the line."