I have never read —nor do I plan to do so in the short term— in full, much less in detail, the ten books or sections that make up the Republic, by Plato. I think it’s partly because I’m a lazy reader and very long texts that are too discursive often tire me. Plato is usually excessively. Also, if it comes to finding more justifications, the copy I have dates back many years and I don’t like the edition: the margins are tight, the font is very small, and the paper—because it’s so old—almost melted in my hands. I suppose I should buy a new volume, but I think that I can’t afford to read it anymorebecause that would imply stopping doing other readings that are necessary for me —as much as breathing— and in many cases represent for me a true and authentic bodily and intellectual joy: body equals intellect and intellect equals body. She thinks with all her senses and feels with her thoughts. Of course, the latter is obvious, who can be saved from falling for it? Well, that doesn’t matter now. This is not the subject of what I had considered writing. My initial intention was—still is: I’ll try to go back to the beginning— refer to poetry. This is what interests me. Yes, and if I have alluded to the Greek philosopher, it is because it was he —at least that is what we have been led to believe— who raised the expulsion of the poets from their city ideal stateconsidering that poetic creation is not always based on the laws of reason, but rather due to circumstances and situations that cannot be fully explained. That is to say, it is out of all norms. It does not accept formats of any kind. It is an absolute exercise of freedom that —through language— calls into question the established reality and creates others —many others. This means that every poet is inhabited by dreams and to dream is to create.
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