The overdose of the absolute.

The most dangerous overdose isn't chemical but existential: believing we can eliminate forever the lack that constitutes us.

The overdose of the absolute.

There exists an intoxication more deadly than any substance: the fantasy that we can experience the All. While chemical overdoses collapse organic systems, the "alloverdose" collapses the very structure of desire that keeps us alive as subjects. This existential overdose doesn't kill the body but something worse: it kills the lack that allows us to keep desiring, seeking, living in the incompleteness that defines us as human.

The alloverdose reveals the deadly core of late capitalism: it doesn't sell objects but the promise of total saturation. Like children who believe they can eat the entire candy store, contemporary subjects pursue experiences that promise to definitively exhaust existential hunger. But hunger is not a problem to solve but a condition to inhabit. When we promise to eliminate it completely, we produce monsters: subjects who have lost the capacity to desire because they believe they have found formulas for absolute satisfaction.

The clinic receives victims of this conceptual overdose: people who consumed so much the idea of plenitude that they lost access to partial pleasures, imperfect encounters, incomplete satisfactions that constitute the real texture of human life. They have overdosed on the infinite and no longer know how to inhabit the finite that we are.

Psychotherapy

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Freedom without limits.

The death of god left us chemical orphans. We search in drugs for limits that dead authorities can no longer trace.

Freedom without limits, bodies in chains.

The fall of traditional authorities promised to free us from millennial oppressions, but delivered us to more subtle and omnipresent tyrannies. Where once a father, a god, or a law marked clear boundaries—painful but navigable—we now inhabit a desert of infinite possibilities that paradoxically paralyzes us. Without symbolic coordinates to organize desire, bodies desperately seek in chemistry the limits that culture stopped providing.

This operation reveals a devastating clinical truth: absolute freedom doesn't liberate but enslaves in more refined ways. Like children in an infinite toy store, the total absence of restrictions produces not joy but unbearable anxiety. Contemporary subjects don't celebrate the fall of prohibitions; they drug themselves to endure the vertigo of a world where "everything is permitted" means nothing is truly oriented. Substances function as prosthetic limits that defunct authorities used to provide.

The clinic receives the remains of this historical operation: subjects who consume chemical structures because they lost access to symbolic structures. Each addiction testifies to the failure of an ideal, each dose recalls a father who didn't know how to say "no" at the precise moment. It's no coincidence that the most "free" generations in history are also the most medicated: freedom without coordinates produces bodies that need chemicals to endure their own indetermination.

Psychotherapy

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Euphoria without reason.

We drug sadness instead of changing the conditions that produce it. Chemical euphoria: confession of lives that give no real reasons for joy.

Euphoria without reason.

Party substances reveal the celebratory poverty of our time. When circumstances don't justify joy, chemistry manufactures it by pharmacological decree. MDMA, cocaine, and amphetamines artificially construct states that once emerged from real events: shared triumphs, loving encounters, collective achievements. Today we celebrate celebration itself, emptied of content but chemically inflated to simulate plenitude.

This euphoric demand denounces a structural deficit: we live lives that don't generate authentic reasons for joy. Like actors who need stimulants to play happy characters, we resort to drugs that allow us to feel what our concrete existences don't provide. The paradox is brutal: chemicals designed to intensify extraordinary experiences now compensate for the absence of experiences worthy of intensification.

The phenomenon reveals how late capitalism produced subjects who must consume their own emotional states. We no longer wait for life to provide us reasons for joy; we directly purchase joy disconnected from its natural causes. Contemporary parties are laboratories where artificial moods are experimented with, simulacra of celebration that confirm precisely the absence of that which would deserve to be celebrated.

Psychotherapy

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