Romantic fantasies untempered by scientific knowledge births chimeras of half-truths and outright nonsense. But the sovereign individual with her irrefutable subjectivity is entitled to her imaginings, however ridiculous. The facts of things are indifferent to self-indulgent silliness.
Still, she could benefit from such mind games, if only as a distraction from the implacable ‘is-ness’ of things she secretly fears.
To each their own self-medication against existential angst. To each their own self-concocted balm to dull the chronic ache of life.