There is an inner animal. It needs to be fed, caressed, and kissed.
It needs stimulation. It is very sexual and very sensual. It is the animal that religions fear and the one against which the “saints” and all of society—organized around rules that offer security and dull the mind—are pitted...
It likes to play. It’s very easily annoyed and capricious. It doesn’t like to be nagged. It’s almost like a child. It’s wayward. Sometimes it doesn’t really have a sense of humor and takes things far too personally and seriously because it’s passionate and has no hidden agenda.
It feels hurt very easily because, in reality, it’s always cheerful and ready for adventure, and it doesn’t understand the stupid seriousness and solemnity that surround it. If it’s provoked, it becomes dangerous.
It is the animal that society keeps on a leash, that the system sedates and feeds platitudes and substitutes—and this ages you, makes you sick, because it, the animal, is your very core energy; it is your wild life that romps and bursts forth from the subconscious. Illness and death are a program born of the struggle with the beast, with the animal within you that you keep hidden behind the bars of behavioral patterns inherited from generation to generation and polished by society.
It is the animal that gives you life.
This energy has been turned into a demon, something to fear—even though, in fact, it is your only reality, the one that grounds you and brings all your senses to life.
It is your primal instinct that keeps you alive, not in sickness.
You have been trained to use this basic—vital—energy against your very own being, becoming your own enemy without even realizing it. And all of this has led to illness, alienation, and death.
Your inner child has become a vengeful demon because it wasn’t allowed to move freely in your life. It wanted to play, but you turned it into a president, a prime minister, a soldier, a marshal, a lawyer, or a police officer. And now you’re afraid of it, you’re ashamed of it, and this fear has aged you, made you sick. You’ve gone mad; you’ve become unrecognizable. You’re practically dead, and you drag yourself through life, proudly wearing the uniform and rank that society has bestowed upon you, lashing out left and right from the lofty heights of your status.
The system isn’t afraid of 'John' or 'Hannah'; it isn’t afraid of names, but of that nameless beast that lives within everyone—which is your true energy and your true self. That is why “holiness” and the archetype of the “model citizen” were established: to subjugate the nameless beast that you represent.
Satisfaction in life does not come from prayer, religious fasting, and intellectual self-flagellation with the scent and flavor of the Sorbonne, but from play and games, from normality.
The animal within you simply wants to live because it is alive.
