"Despair is madness. Madness, the perception of the impossibility of living: being there, but as if not being there. Despair as an experience of madness is incompatible with life. It sees death, plans death, and kills itself and the other. Despair is a madness possible to man, to all men; it is, in fact, a perspective of man, linked to his need to be with others, to the fact that he cannot live alone, because human life is not solitude but sharing, belonging, attachment. Killing is a moment of infinite and incurable despair, and then the world appears useless and harmful and an individual perceives himself as irreducible to the world, as an alien, as an alienated person. A human feeling, possible, compatible with normality. Killing is linked to the madness of normality, to that capacity of man which, when in crisis, instead of helping him to live, transforms him into death and pushes him to kill and ruin himself, to kill himself. Madness is different from a clinical point of view, but also from a legal one (the inability to understand and intend: an infirmity that has arisen, preventing the human machine from functioning). I see madness as a mechanism that mirrors that of despair, of the feeling of the end: the incomprehensibility of the world, pulling out of it. Still being on the planet without knowing it. Close to others without needing the other. Even losing the memory of words and their meaning, giving up on communicating. Schizophrenia is an extraordinary example of this: being in the world as if the world were ending and as if being had no meaning, since all meaning is based on relationships. The schizophrenic is an island, a monad locked in a cell of existence, in a prison of the world. In isolation because that way they can still breathe. Life that comes closest to death. In short, madness already has to do with death, though not in its physical representation, but in its psychological representation, personality, and social representation, relationships. There are three kinds of death: that of the body, the most emblematic and absolute; that of the mind, which allows the body to remain active and even to take on an air of elegance; and then social death: deprived of every dimension, as if we had become transparent and, even within a crowd, no one could see us. The madman is a dead man who walks and breathes. If he kills, he does so without despair, perhaps out of anger; he is a corpse who kills. Madness has already overcome despair and for this reason lives without living, lives as if dead and, if it kills, kills already dead."