Phenomenology fails, at least for you. You've never come close to describing moods, feelings, or any thing akin to sexual arousal. These are not forms of belief, they are manifest disproofs of a transcendental subjectivity. You can't unpick these states or run them backwards, just as you can't say how form and content get into the mind. Literature, drama, poetry and song, all of these suggest otherwise keeping the fantasy of detachment alive, but they all work by creating situations for which identification can do the work. And identification is a misnomer, it begs the question. What is at work is a kind of mimetic contagion followed by a catharsis, an illusion of freedom, made up out of simple passions which come to seem far more differentiated than they are. It is the delusive allure of higher culture.