Reality and Dream

I incline to think that human contentment springs from the encounter between reality and dream. I say and think immediately of D. Quijote. There is a winding border, apparently very ill-defined, that unites the real with the imaginary and seems to be the progenitor of satisfaction. The dream itself seems to me to be powerless if it lacks a connection with the concrete. A bridge is needed, a link, albeit in the form of hope, of “it will happen”. Otherwise, the practical quickly crushes the imagined, generating discouragement and shame. This, of course, in healthy minds. On the other hand, reality will always be weak because it is insufficient: it also needs an amplifier, something to embellish and tone up the crudeness of the concrete. And this, even in a subtle way, is nothing but fantasizing the real. That is why I am intrigued to what extent D. Quijote did not live what he dreamed of, or to what extent he actually lived. Crazy or master? I lack the answer…

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The Repression of the Subconscious

It is interesting to note how the repression of the subconscious, or of a sphere perhaps autonomous from the conscious itself, seems necessary for the reality not to becomes unbearable. First of all, by the innate repugnance to the random and irrational. Then, by the need for behavioral and psychological unity. The conflicting, the duality, the uncertainty are almost intolerable to human nature, so a choice is forced: a conscious choice, which involves an active effort and is not but the intentional denial of a face of reality. Thus, it seems necessary to falsify life in favor of the practical. The alternative path is frightening. To deny the confrontation, besides, is a good trick not to lose…

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An Unsuitable Animal [2]

Forced to wait in a line, with nothing to read, I enjoy the moment in a fun activity: trying to list the things I hate most. Here we go: (1) dissimulation, (2) bureaucracy, (3) demagoguery, (4) groups of people, (5) marketing, (6) expansiveness, (7) noise of human voices, (8) futile conversation… I list and have an idea. The smile is immediate. Again, I perceive myself as an unsuitable animal. I consider, perhaps, that my existence is an evolutionist enigma. I have countless contrary manifestations to the environment, so I risk my nature to be the portrait of maladjustment. In me, the intro and the extra are related in hostility, they repel each other without any possible conciliation. I deliberately refuse to integrate the medium, even if I fail and it unbearably persecutes me. I remember the words of Thoreau: “Wherever a man goes, men will pursue and paw him with their dirty institutions, and, if they can, constrain him to belong to their desperate odd-fellow society”. Oh, annoying life! Unbearable conventions! Stupid talk!… Goodbye, note, even you cause me anger.

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Desire: the Cancer of the Human Psyche

It is possible to find rational justifications for denying the solutions proposed by the Stoics, the Buddhists, Schopenhauer and many others. But there is a universal truth, present also in Christian philosophy, concerning desire: it is the plague, the cancer of the human psyche, the endless source of frustrations. And if, after careful psychological analysis, we decide to pluck it out at its root, plucking each of our hopes with a hoe, we get rid of an immense, malignant and harmful burden. The problem is that the human being lives on dreams, supports reality in the hope of a better future. To exterminate it, therefore, is to make life lose its brightness, is to give line to indifference, is to deny nature itself, is self-mutilation. Well, that seems to be the way to peace.

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