A humans we like order, although we spend more time in disorder. The world is in chaos, hence the success of the Japanese Marie Kondo, who has sold millions of copies of a book in which she explains how to organize drawers. It is assumed that if one (or one, that the generic falters) reserves a space for the underpants or for the panties, at the same time open departments in her head to place the ideas, so that they do not mix with each other. There are people who are about to make use of a rational argument and get an emotional outburst, as when in a chaotic closet you reach for a tie and pull out a rat. It means that the external order ends up being a reflection of the interior.
If on any Monday you leave the bed unmade, maybe nothing will happen, but if you stop doing it the rest of the week, the memory of those rumpled and wrinkled sheets, whether you are aware of it or not, will accompany you throughout the day and in the office, you will confuse the debit with the credit, which for an accountant is like for a dove to confuse the North with the South, the wheat with the water, the sea with the sky. Dove was wrong, he was wrong. I like to think that when I improve my syntax, I improve my life. There is an ascetic there, a desire for purification through effort. There is a struggle, so many times lost, as when one would like to like the documentaries of La 2, but is only capable of watching trash TV. Now, everything has a limit and to me the order that is seen in this image seems a bit psychotic. It’s scary.