it’s just because the box of concepts and categories can handle anything and nothing. Putting a line after another in a spasmodic catharsis of dark sentimentalism is a mere conditioned reflex, a colorful fetish detained in the showcase of universal consumption, a regurgitating toads and snakes to conjure the spurious curse of a time same as itself. Washed away. Colorless. Redundant. Irreversible. The same last for different shoes. Choose the one that fits you. Adjust it, feel it, get moving and see that freedom illusion spreading out beyond the horizon merging into endless possibilities. Or just read the references at footnote: hopeless kink, nothing at all, incubus, reason of unreason, complain A or B. And save yourself a precious time.