from which all and any neurological security has deserted and which threaten to explode in public the personality imposed by the system.

 In the midst of the sensible and significant chaos --- this social field devastated by capitalist subjectivity ---, a world of ghosts takes hold in each daydream. And with each “good morning” from mannequins and political bigwigs on the news, the “partial-shattered-objects” (to use Lacan), endowed with VOICE and GAZE, set off on delirious, hallucinatory lines, from which all and any neurological security has deserted and which threaten to explode in public the personality imposed by the system. And while we gaze without interest at a stretch of deserted street, mutant foci of subjectivity force the significant fabric of reality, dirty with media spit and advertising trash; there are crosses on the side of the road, crossroads, macumba dispatches constellating dark universes of reference that keep the standard Dorian family awake --- one looks for them in faces, on ceilings, in furniture, in the garden, in the building's playground: no, every fugitive idea seems to be arranged in vague, evasive periods, that ignore the sonorous and predictable fluency of everyday life, the world of work, of employment, which will have to deal with the shopping mall stores on every festive or commemorative date, enclosed in a web of a thousand dominant social redundancies totally classified and organized to suffocate and inhibit and standardize.