Abstract

What guides, in fact, the spirit of the writer, a consciousness in the training of his sense of humanity and inhumanity of others, or just entertains readers who see life as uninteresting, as a "thing" that does not deserve to be lived only by the playful side of things and people? Yes, what commands the author’s conscience? The Id, the Ego? God? Does he accept a Voice, which though bothering him, gives him advice for free, dismissing the psychiatrist and then shedding, further and further his verve, pleasant or unpleasant as the bile of many media? What bothers and commands you is the mob, the disorderly crowd of bodies and voices, of touches and insults, delinquency, injustice in the face of those who defend valid ideals.... Like the Depeche Mode song, "Suffer well..."