The longing for fusion is inseparable from the guilt of incest.
Its unresolved tension appears as hysteria.
Hysteria carries an erotic charge,
a structure that mirrors the logic of political frenzy.

We yearn for godlike leaders, dissolving ourselves into grand ideals.

Revolution erupts as a climactic release of prolonged repression.

Within the fever of control and submission,
people taste a pleasure close to death—
as if kneeling before a deity, begging for salvation.

Yet we remain unable to tell
whether the power we summon is a god or fascism.