If I had to explain all this in slightly ridiculous terms, I could only say that shoddy construction was deeply harmful. If you stacked bricks without mortar, the consequences were severe.
Victor frowned hard and touched his temple. "Shattered... what does that mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like." Schiller's fingers kept tapping lightly against the bedrail. "The tower I built wasn't sturdy enough, and the person standing on top was too high up. So the entire personality shattered, breaking into many pieces. For a long time afterward, I kept trying to glue him back together."
"This..." Victor had originally wanted to say that this was utterly absurd, but perhaps it was because the metaphor was a little too down-to-earth.
The original explanation should have contained plenty of technical terms he would not have understood, so Schiller had deliberately put it more plainly.
Otherwise, this was far too childish. A personality could shatter? And even more absurdly, it could be glued back together???
"During that time, I wasn't in a normal social environment, but I knew I had to return, because I still had things to do," Schiller continued.
"I had to find a way to make myself look like an ordinary person. For example, I could try putting the fragments back together and gluing them, or fill the cracks with grout and pretend it was some kind of postmodern artwork..."
Schiller sighed. "The reason I chose psychology as my field was that the psychologist treating me was truly too professional."
"Of course, it's also possible that I was using the wrong technique to glue the vase together. He saw through it every time, so I developed far too many pointless expectations of this profession. Now I can't even find a suitable student..."
Schiller shook his head helplessly, but Victor did