Sartre was right: Hell is other people.
I don’t know enough about the man or his play to be sure that he was right for the right reason.
But I do know that whenever ‘others’ enter one’s life-play, the split from wholeness has happened, meaning, a ‘me’ has morphed.
Most readers of Sartre take the “hell” of “other people” to be their capacity to annoy or frustrate one.
But it seems to me that hell is the capacity of the imagined ‘me/myself’ to annoy and frustrate itself by turning the equally imagined ‘others’ into victimizers or objects of desire, or those who must be pleased with me and like me, regardless of the cost to body, happiness and sanity.
In other words, turning them into stories.
And then believing it’s all true and real.