Construction, always this idea that comes back. To live one day after another, one day similar to the other, no, it is death, the negation of existence, the abandonment of the will. The important thing, the motivation, the desire, is the targeted construction, what we create element after element, during months. Time passes, if we are not careful we quickly lose it. But to think that today we are further than yesterday, here is the illusion that allows us to move forward.
Simple desires, absolute desires; here a wedding, the choice of the unique person, the eternal union; there a house to build with his hands, his own place; a garden, the creation of its own survival; childbirth, creating these beings who are her and herself, the fusion that cannot be initially satisfied, give them the education that will make them autonomous,… construct them, it always comes back to the same thing.
To master, to possess, to strengthen himself by these feelings. A book, a saga, the phantasmed expression, all the richness of an imagination lying on paper, all these scenes, make all this beauty; the violin, the noble instrument by excellence, all ranges of expression, this imprint of femininity; running, strength, autonomy, as humanity was 40,000 years ago, runners, healthy humans, impeccable machines, so powerful, the loneliness of running, with oneself, this intimacy, to meet again, to feel the well-being; human expression, in dance, opera, classical music concerts, the grace of movements, the range of feelings, the power of the instruments.
