He’s not really struggling even for material wealth, but for the second-hander’s delusion—prestige. A stamp of approval, not his own. He can find no joy in the struggle and no joy when he has succeeded.

Let your dreams become experiences,
Your love be true. 
Your moments into reality, 
And your heart be new.

Home is not just walls and roof, 
It is a place made of love, trust and happiness.

A further point is that, little by little, in the current universe, everything is slowly being named; nor does this have anything to do with the older Aristotelian universals in which the idea of a chair subsumes all its individual manifestations.

Written By Fredric Jameson

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