Sabrina succubus thank you Sabrina!

 considering so many vague dangers during my morning cup of coffee, I go through all the holotropic stages that go from Germanic vaporousness to Parisian libertinism and then to the habit of people who laugh loudly at what they talk about, at the dangers they make fun of, even though it's not funny at all, and who then resign themselves to sulking --- all these modalities of serial error that then fill everyone with new reasons to quickly disconnect from the illusion of glory and heroism, to go and look for in banal fantasies, frankly humorous now that they can no longer be fierce, a compensation for weak nerves, some thread of drinkable life after the fall, far from the shine of any old idol they dreamed of being, whose gold now comes off in their hands whenever they seek, with the shame of lost glory, the old illusory resources, the naive resources of myth, or of the blind love of passions that have been rapidly weakening; from those babbling lips full of excessive vagueness, leading us to the greatness of sweet and bad instincts --- so glued to life, our daily attention should be paid to something greater than a miserable self-absorption, through those unrealizable anxieties that clog our senses, in an unstructured and ruined ego: this instantaneous rotting of the things on which people rely, casting lost and perplexed looks of disorientation in all directions