The Internet has given voice to fools and stagers who have always dreamed of fame. Today there is a lack of mirror for so many daffodils.
Does the legend say that the higher the exposure, the lower the self-esteem?which leads me to conclude that every K I like received replaces a year of therapy.
- No! It’s not a substitute.
- It’s masking; After all.
- It’s much less painful to hide inside a virtual character or avatar created to face a liberating reality.
- Blessed are those who can live in anonymity at a time when it seems to be something extraordinary to travel and not even register.
The world is useless, shallow, disposable. Everything is subject to filter, Photoshop and delete button, I did not like, delete. Every chapter of life is erased as if it were a simple typo.
I am from the time of anonymity, protagonist of television and magazine, photos taken with the film Kodak, flash and without possibility of correction, these photos were saved in a small album with a cardboard cover on them, with plastic pages to store photos that would be shown to friends, family or that someday would find those who would clean the drawer years later.
I’m one of the days when we were nobody and stuff. . . it was a Sunday social column in the print media.
I miss the days when insignificance and amateurism were allowed
I miss the moment Marilyn Monroe was really beautiful and never got botox.
I miss it when this virtual window didn’t exist and people were forced to live in their time, space and real relationships because they had the ability to open the mailbox only once a week.
It was missing when the Matrix was just a movie, since today there are human beings living?Several lives? And they make scripts and plots that don’t exist for a hypnotized audience. A publication with your child’s natural syrup recipe gets five views while tutorials on makeup and decoration. nails exceed three digits in seconds.
I’m old and damned because I lived in a world where children had no excuse because there was a schedule at the hairdresser’s and in the gym, as teenagers we dreamed of Zoomp pants, because then we matured, I faced adult life and learned that labels had to be inside clothes. Today we are hangers, storefronts, boys to hang clothes, bags and shoes.
At the time, women in their forties, fifties and sixties had wrinkles and things to tell, today they compete with ten-year-old girls for the best selfie and can’t even cook without showing the dishes.
Has the natural and sacred flow of flowering, flowering and maturation been lost?
We don’t even have anyone to pray for anymore. Even faith has become a fad; An hour coupled with “intellectual refinement”?Buddhist, in another Christian pop environment wrapped in the beautiful archetype of the priest.
Mothers don’t even smell their children’s lunchboxes because they prefer to accompany them through the hidden chamber, perhaps waiting for an acquittal for their absent presences.
Sometimes I am afraid, sometimes sad, and sometimes I miss them, but above all I feel jealous when I have also been freed from the almost fifteen Ks who appreciate my thoughts above all.