I'd have to disagree with Freud, the creative genius inventor of psychoanalysis, that repression - specifically sexual repression - is the defining motivation to our personalities.

Now, I might be psychoanalyzing myself here, but I think it's Death. It's not some opposable digit, biped motion, or language capability that separates us from our hairier four-legged counterparts. It's that somewhere in human evolution we were there watching another of our species die and instead of simply feeling despair or triumph over their plight, we had the lightening flash that: I, too, will die.

A random, accidental event births "ego", solves the missing link and instigates all sorts of historical repercussions including insanity, violence and the need to obsessively use right angles in architectural design (you can't walk down the street without it, people).

Me? I just choose to think about Death every day. I won't expand too much except that I've come to the realization that to every yin there is a yang, every coin has two contingent sides, and the complimentary opposite to Death is not Love, as some might expect and neither is it birth. It's sex. Sex and Death are exactly the same only completely polar.

Sexual repression and mortaility repression: maybe Freud was closer than we thought.

1 comments Links to this post