Monday, August 30, 2010
Days Of The Week Boxers Shorts
There are the constraints. There are traditions of our culture that are accepted without even thinking. This is not an evil in itself. Many of these traditions are good, I think. Some
However, once I thought about the job and I fuck something's not working. I discovered it, trying to figure much smaller than the Earth, a tiny land with few inhabitants. Nothing else, then, mathematically. Among these people I was there. A kind of strange dream. In this dream I opened the door and I was watching the sun that made light of the courtyard. Some people greeted me and I responded with an embarrassed grin. I was wondering what I should do. All they did something. That took care of the roof, that one of the stable, a guy with some other of the plant, some pretty girls driving a strange and silent machine, two children screaming, an old net proceeds from a flower. Days went by and I realized that these people seemed to be on vacation. But that was their life. They had to do only what they needed.
a zero balance, physically speaking. Everything else was life and progress.
That work is a tradition distorted by time and deceit. The human race could be in the future, today, if the objectives of the work had not been expelled from the community. When my work is rewarded with a note, the objectives of my work is anonymous and unrelated to any concept of community. This creates a distance between my life and what I do for a living. The result is the race for survival, which replaces the full and enlightened life.