Real "living life"

We've all grown so unaccustomed to life that sometimes we feel a sort of loathing for real "living life," and therefore cannot bear to be reminded of it. I know you'll probably get angry with me for that, shout, stamp your feet: "speak just for yourself and your miseries in the underground, and don't go saying 'we all. Excuse me, gentleman, but I am not justifying myself with this all-ishness. As far as I myself am concerned, I have merely carried to an extreme in my life what you have not dared to carry even halfway, and, what's more, you've taken your cowardice for good sense, and found comfort in thus deceiving yourselves. So that I, perhaps, come out even more "living" than you.