Never but dream the days and nights made of dreams of other nights better days.

And so it is, of course, that the smart thing to do is to hang out by the heart, loiter just below the inferior vena cava, hold on to each other in a tight chain so as to resist getting pushed out into the cold harsh world. There are some ants that hold on like this for ages, for all time, burrowed into little nooks, even—hiding out in my heart where they know there is always a home, safe, pounding and ever so warm.

The positioning of desire is a result of social power. But the content of desire does not contain—the way a mirror contains—social power, in image or reality. (What it contains, if anything other than itself, is that tiny part of the freedom of language associated with abjection.) Indeed, it is the positioning of desire that always draws us to “The Unspeakable” in the first place.

Reality is a sound, you have to tune in to it not just keep yelling.