We are intoxicated by our insatiable hunger for novelty, material possessions, popularity, and success. We always want more, never truly satisfied with what we have or the results we have achieved. Who we are or have become is never enough, not in our own eyes nor in the eyes of others. Once we set a goal, we set another, and then the pattern repeats; endlessly. We are full of everything, as the individual in the opera screams, saturated with every potentially attainable thing, vomits everything he had acquired. Amidst games, music, cars, alcohol, and much more, he feels unwell, and he calls out for a little peace. Obscured by the pleasure of having, he seeks well-being only to push it away, so as not to end up like others who appear lifeless, stripped of their ability to resist the poison of extreme pleasure, who have allowed themselves to be corrupted and intoxicated without the slightest chance of redemption. Resisting is inhuman; it requires a will that transcends common abilities, a will that stands above everything and imposes its judgment. Learning to resist is not guaranteed because in a context that sometimes offers few chances, clinging to dependence is a tempting shortcut that replaces the happiness of a life full of real satisfactions with a fictitious, deceptive one from which there is no escape.