Comfortably installed in the observatory of the dates, mother's day surprise me with their barrage of hypocrisy, silly gifts and pledges and promises and all that reconciles the remainder of the stems very valemadristas those.
Then I see the offer: totomoxtle Birds, flowers, feathers, paper flowers, animals, flowers, stuffed animals. Pure false thing, which replaces the real. I do not see animals that are actually animals, flowers are just flowers, bird feathers owners. No, it appears that most false thing will be the best reception. So is the small detail or intention, hug or promise. Everything, everything holds to be false. And mothers, what is left, they themselves are willing to accept the obvious falsehood.
Following the scope of the mothers are detergents that contain real lemon juice, while packaged juices with artificial flavors. Pants aged in a plant in Cambodia are sold at high prices, while a pair is aged for use cruelly despised. Hair dyes, anti-wrinkle creams. I see the output of the schools where they make those festivals, children who swallow a monstrous amount of artificial flavors short of unbearable, but stubbornly natural reluctance to eat a radish or lettuce.
facades of houses which simulates brick masonry Rosette is elegant, but without reversing the wall is little more than a pigsty. Tags simulating bullets or damage in a car are low, but a car gunned down or dented is horrible. The gift shops and rustic furniture are cool, but a poor house, with ropes and boards and logs for sitting not so pretty.
In this powerful seduction game set between a woman and a man, it is this which displays an array of poignant phrases, poet wishes, disguised by its very simple elegant phrasing anxiety coupled with her sexually. Deep down a woman knows what their true intentions, although perhaps intuit that he is lying, prefer the lies to the simple direct their mutual acceptance and ephemeral desires.
remember a medieval tale reaches a region where a minstrel show offering imitate the grunting of a pig. People are placed around it while it is wrapped in the cloak with his right arm making a hole, as the then charged to the animal. A petition of silence, the man hides his face between the coating and surprised people can hear the growl of a pig. By removing the layer and show that there is nothing down there, everyone burst into applause. On one such occasion, a farmer walks up and unimpressed, ensures the professional he can do better and challenge, to the derision of the spectators. The next day they come face to face professional impersonator and the farmer, who wears the coat. When it's up to mimic their turn, too theatrical gesture makes loading the pig in his arms and running the sound. Again people clap angry insults as the challenger, who has been all the time covered by the arm layer. When it comes the turn and make noise, people booed, stating that the imitator and not the jerk, the best plays the voice of the pig. Warning to all, the farmer discovers the arm and shows that all the time there has been a real pig, and that what is heard voice of a real animal and not imitated by a man. Shun
grotesque face, so we bring out. Therefore we prefer to pay attention to television and entertainment banality media rather than face the tough truth, mourner, mournful. We love the unreal because reality seems to love. We strive to real but we deny what we show immersed in that reality. We look forward to replace it with something that holds as false in an effort, perhaps, to believe that the daily misery is also false. But there it is. Until we accept without makeup, unimpeded, and without guilt. I think only then begin to fade to be indeed more pleasant and more bearable.
appears that the issue of acceptance of the truth, few are willing to bear. Maybe that's why the lie, falsehood, artificial and frivolous spreads freely. The day when the truth is a scandal and a shame, we will have finally taken this step as humanity's much talked about, so necessary and yet so postponed.
0 comments:
Post a Comment