At some point in our lives, because of having a physical existence, we are forced to distance ourselves from our ideal state, from our original pre-existential form of identity, which, not burdened by a developed self-consciousness suddenly materializes itself in an unfavorable world where it then becomes distorted due to the adaptation to the internal shortcomings it compensates for in our parents, and the cultural environment it is exposed to. On account of the necessities of external conformity, we unknowingly create timeless ideals for our selves based on its primeval existence behind consciousness, and out of convenience we shape it to control the onslaught of our inner life, our original shame, and the sufferings that it had to endure for being what it is. We then dress ourselves in its ideal dream state and transform it into a conventional slumber. It then becomes a strictly conditioned personal ideal, and we tribalize it with biases. But there is always an existential confrontation that questions its limited life and its beliefs. The wound is there. And we find it in our views of others. In how we relate to the world.