Che vuoi?

Like Lacan, I derive some pleasure from jumping into the unfathomable abyss of the Other. Perhaps bored with the unfathomable abyss of Self? Social, biological need for human connection? Even if the connection destabilizes the sensorial lagoon of my solitude? The Other is elusive, as are the fantasies that emerge in the interlude. So I take Lacan's ethical injunction seriously - I live. I live to stifle the excessive nature of the fantasy that otherwise consumes me.