Traumdeutung | Inventory

Non !

Bruno de Halleux

I've always said yes! A yes not to say no.

A yes to the Other to soften it, to avoid it, to not confront it.

This yes was unbearable, alienated me, stopped me. With this yes, I yielded to desire, mine; I remained in the shadow of the Other.

I wanted to believe in the sexual rapport, in the possible harmony between two subjects of speech, in the possibility in fine of finding a word of conciliation between the other and me.

The Other was like a baron. I especially pinned those of the School, those who in my imagination, believe in it, possess all the knowledge, occupy all the ground - political, epistemic, clinical - and make little room for the little ones, the discreet, the masked workers...

In the analysis, I could not find a way out. Uncontrollable tears prevented me from speaking, from confronting myself in reality, from coming out of my belief in a possible universal love.

A dream allows the subject to keep sleeping. Even when awake, the subject continues to sleep in the comfort of what makes his fantasy. Waking up to reality is rare. Is it even possible?

In the analysis, a dream of the end of the journey arises.

I dream that I'm going to a lady's house, a baroness, who played an important role in my childhood. I'm on my bike, and suddenly I feel slowed down, for no apparent reason, stopped to the point where the bike stops. A Twingo arrives. Out comes a man who seems drunk and makes loose movements of his arms. I narrowly avoid a hit. I associate this man with a cousin with whom I played a lot as a child. He's a baron.

I want to run away. I ride my bike and pedal with rage, but am again stopped inexplicably. The man comes right at me, ready to hit me. He's going to throw himself at me. Instead of sheltering myself, hiding myself, as I have always done, I face him. The moment he is going to hit me, I punch him and yell, "NO!" I wake up.

I still have to take note of that. Say no to assume a yes to castration, a yes to the non-existence of the Other.

Translated by Maria Cristina Aguirre
Revised by Cyrus Saint-Amand Poliakoff