"Always the same story is repeated: each individual thinks of nothing but itself" Sophocles
Embroiled to say less about me is alarming but not enough to be (although Shall) . So make me feel the conclusions these days I'm developing. I have the feeling that we, the youth, we are punished by society, doomed to be the consequence. The reason is obvious: the environment, globalization invigorating, adrenaline, with heavy doses of paranoia and the same catharsis. The problem is there, from very close, dry, pulsating rhythm of a hectic life where the motto is "urgent but not important at all."
Our parents are the heirs of a life where everyday amenities did not exist and had to deal with the few technological advances of his time. That marked. Universal receivers were also hard times, political clashes, feel sudacas, flagging an idea (which they believed less dirty), and were eating the dry grass of a lapse in history where the break occurs between the mechanical and digital, between the eternal and the instant, between the obstruction and accessibility, between them and their children. They learned to marvel, and being old, with new devices: television, computer, CD, Internet, mobile phones, etc. They learned to keep a distance, knew it did not correspond at all, then the owners would their children. And expectations were, they saw it all easier than it had touched them. Then they decided to make plans: a career, a position, effort, money, recognition. There we wanted, there reciprocate. But something happened, the task remained incomplete. Their heads were filled with machines, chips, screens, speakers, nuts and buttons ... I still do not know, they lacked affection, respect, virtue, simplicity, simplicity and pause.
realized this a few days ago, when my father told me with a serious tone but more sincere than many times have I heard: "Your generation is going to be that of the materialists, individual and competitive." I was pávido, cold in the vertebrae and with an air of some injustice. He had been clear, precise and concise. Our lives have been traced in statistics where we are more than numbers, that's what we owe. We will be the generation of stars, the problem is that we like to shine more than others, to illuminate both light invisible to our fellow men, we only want to be seen. It will, perhaps, a dictatorship: the ego. Today
breathe it among ourselves, we see often but do not accept it. It will be a taboo in the coming years will be used as a euphemism for "bad material heritage." We're trying to be the best, hurry to our years. If you are 18 and you're in school you are a late, note!, A late, what please?!: The end of the day nobody can say that. In any case, better to be late and have a thousand years ahead of a hastily that right around the corner will be made dead. We have known
anesthesia, indeed, enough. Sound much everywhere, are discussed in governments, NGOs, our parents speak enough of that and some do not speak, simply get richer. Our bonds are dashed, the pressures disappear like air from a punctured balloon, everything begins to tour boats. And both drowning, that we fall into a false idea childishly break, we cook in a tangled that seduces us to get excited when we tested it then. I'm talking about the drug, magical realism that transports us to Eden, makes us imagine infinite traces to happiness but when in the imagined glory of peace and non-existent sky, the beautiful disappears giving way to a dark world smelling of sewage and wet debris. So inside we get older, with smiley faces to a beheader, anorexic and supplier of leisure revenge. We know the cynicism and hypocrisy, let us put the best face that we are happy to act. Then comes the most beautiful of all, our last lifeline, we stick to the easy, from what we are worthless. We fell in love vanity, fresh green dollar, we seek to scrub more worrying in the face to someone. Consequently, we get complacent with ourselves, arrogant with non existent. We did not choose a god to worship podérsele all gone on to serve the God of green with several zeros to the right, that that is useful, nothing more. Among consummation
I do think that maybe, though we refuse, we will live many more years but will age youth. Have we left the trail of an elusive young, we were just ideals to be postponed to our personal concerns. I hope to be wrong, but maybe we will die without us down in the street, not steal a book to read with the holy pleasure of writing about an act of kindness damn benign, we have not drunk coffee strong, not know the best way to lie, let side and also fall in love, procreate, well, we a selfish.
not think I write all this with persistent and malicious sponsorship. I am not prophet. I mean, in the form of comfort, which are a thousand and one possibilities of our lives, a thousand are the chances that I'm wrong. But, as someone said, I smell something bad in this story. Come feel weak construction, something like a Tower of Babel not know how to carry their destination. Or something like the story of the three little pigs, our lives are built on lightweight, there will be no cement mixed with feelings and virtues, that we will falter and get old. But as the story was a third pig built his house of bricks and mortar, gave a lot of work and bad times. But succumbing when the wind was blowing the wolf, resisted. I have faith in those who will their lives stronger and stronger pillars can accommodate others whose lives have been wrecked in the ecstasy of something that never was.
In these times where we do not listen, where we live mean, where life is passing and we were beside the road, I prefer to try to combat everything that's eluded me, chasing something and stumble if necessary, be late to rest a minute and see others running in the distance, as I leave the way clear. I hope to afford the pleasure of simple things: the unexpected smiles, soft hands, the wind in my face, stars nocturnal, barefoot summer nights, the winter with a cup of coffee, hard work, a cigar without trouble, a kiss for no reason (this reminds me of Michael, the character in a fairy Fuguet). Here
term and overwhelm us the most. I have faith, as I said, those who want to do something different. But you know who I expect a lot more of our children. They include the martyrdom of our lives, grungy number of years worked, believe you can change it and no doubt they will. Be as prepared as us but will not forget you also have to leave, when necessary, run away with dreams, reinvent between the colors of life are unclear. As I said today in philosophy class: "They will know that life does not distinguish walking on a barren mountain in the middle of a storm, which is not otherwise expected to climb and reach the top, life is, however, more serene and fragile. Life is like a flat valley and dense, where you have to walk slowly to meet the beauty of it, with its rivers and animals, with the moon and sun. "
