The banality of psychoanalysis

I cannot identify with psychoanalysis, but that’s a good thing because I haven’t given myself up.

Lack, the phi that the subject finds himself in after crossing the line, is the cima of discourse, which caps discourse and gives an upper limit to everything, so the signifier is, and only is, the "road". No matter how long and winding the road is, it is still a "horizontal" road. The road of the signifier "divides and combines" the meaning in the intersection with each other. Passers-by can either stay at a certain intersection where the meanings gather, or choose to continue walking (going straight or turning). In this pure movement of walking and stopping, the magic of the signifier will create a brand new subject at a certain moment. The choice between staying and continuing is the Lacanian freedom that is possible because of the impossibility, because such freedom is guaranteed by the symbol. As long as the subject accepts the castration of the symbol, there is no need to worry that he will go back to the original place after a long journey. Whether castration is painful or not, for Lacanians, is totally out of question.

Is there anything more cruel than making a choice ? I say that making a choice is cruel not because choosing one means losing the other, or that choosing either means losing everything, but that when a choice appears, the symbol reaches its limit. What is beyond the symbol? More symbols? Newer symbols? All choices are a choice of "yes" vs. "no". Can "yes" vs. "no" really be translated into "one" vs. "everything"? How much discount is this "everything"? If someone thinks that analyzing symptoms is cruel enough, then all these cruelties combined are not as cruel as the question of "should I continue analysis?" The cruelty I am talking about here is not the same cruelty as the most common cruelty of disillusionment. The cruelty here means that instead of worrying about what I got from psychoanalysis, I found that psychoanalysis itself was what bound me.

This is the temptation of psychoanalysis. I hand over the drug of imagination, and you give me freedom to speak. Because imagination only seems to be boundless, but in fact it will cancel action and turn me into a beast that roars at the mirror every day. What you believe is that as long as the sharp knife of the symbol is sharp enough, and the hand holding the knife is experienced and cold enough, the imagination of all analysts can be cut off like an umbilical cord. When you think this way and do this, you are very sure that something completely "new" will grow where you cut it. You answer me: In the face of the mortal existence, how "new" is enough to be "new"? Psychoanalysis neither promises eternity nor an end, so do you imagine psychoanalysis itself as freedom?

I know exactly what I am talking about: imagination can traverse itself—because part of imagination can be expressed in words, and those imaginations that cannot be expressed in words can also be put into “frames” as aesthetics. If I like, I can use a certain object a to classify these “frames”. What I proved to myself is that my imagination is not only vigorous , but also mature. Only people with immature imaginations are afraid of imagination. “No taboos” means: I can distinguish what is “cannot” and what is “unwilling” . Standing in my current position, I no longer need anyone to tell me how the imagination of psychoanalysis is traversed, and I have never heard anyone explain to me how her imagination of psychoanalysis is traversed. Using the patronymic metaphor formula as an analogy is very deceptive. Although the analyst can be reduced to “mother’s desire”, psychoanalysis is not any of the patronymic, the stone ancestor, or the big other.

Freedom is not what I desire. Freedom is a symptom. We all know the source of the symptom. Who can shake that source? Leave the troubles of reality to bullets. Since I can't say what I really desire , I will only talk about what I want between "having" and "not having".

After all, the world is round, and I can never be sure if I am going “ forward ”, but I should be able to be sure if I am going “ up ” or “ down ”. I don’t want the freedom of symbols, I want the infinity of imagination.