Burns On My Thumb From Lighter

transcendental Most of my life today was arrecostarme of a tree, make a ringtone mangoes as they fell and sounded Mangaze those that shook the ground like a drum.

could Outdoor hear the terrible sound of the traffic, whistles and horns, the braking of the vans, the terrible dynamic that imprisons us and from which we have no time but others have of us. The time to walk or ride to work, then university and then return home, or the time elapsed and to be inside a factory, a company in an office or doing what others did in Past lives: playing sonatas or stop to swell ranks of orchestras and repeat the same repertoire of authors of past centuries, the truth is that supposedly live in the XXI century and actually do anything but live our time, this petal of time just reaches us and rob us, to experience what others did or established.

hurry, at a rapid pace driven by anxiety, pacing outside the body (often masquerade as "natural") rate oblivious to everything, just immersed in a constant stress lets not even looking, lots of things happen while walking down the street or pass an area, there are thousands of gestures, movements thousands of thousands of faces ...

A tree releases its seeds and flowers, and these fall into the concrete instead of falling on the bare earth, rather than touching the skin of birthing the tenderness, in another place, another tree dying hanged note cement that contrasts with large posters of women modeling dresses Fancy cloths displaying the prototype of the woman "modern" and "cosmopolitan." In a square one can see that to give work to the workers, concrete finish filling an oasis of trees that survived the horrific arrogance of a neighbor named "Mall" near and raking the surface to begin the strip of greenery The accompanying mantle. And again showing the scars of several trees on a boulevard that cut through the neck so they could see the windows and the gray mass of a building; mutilated near a house to another under the pretext of which damaged the pipes and he could fall on people, when the tree was lush and beautiful, shade and gave his best singing in the wind. And so they repeat the stories of mutilation and stupid and irrational destruction of those who assume the right to damage, agree to their scales of "values" or subjective judgments, a fact that is repeated at all levels and geographies.

In One morning at breakfast the pigeons next to a kiosk, they are frightened or scared when they felt very close to the steps of any person, or if passed a stray dog, as usual beginning the day and he could see boxes and boxes of beer being unloaded from a truck left at the liquor store.

and like almost every day, we justify the existence, either working, studying, or doing any maricura, permanent blackmail phrases such as "but not as work" or "sell but not as" having to rely on the "entrepreneur" to "work" to justify that we have to pay electricity, water, services to meet needs or to be the "taste" as many want.

This of having to justify to the family, girlfriend, friends, school, academy, church, factory, the employer (or their representatives) to take you or force you to accept, or will impose a despicable business class, adding to and play with the prices and the economy, making everything a contradictory environment, conflict, fraudulent, uncertain, complex and confusing, that allows you to live in peace but in distress.

This dynamic justification cam you get into the rules and laws set to work to private owners, or being in the image and likeness of these consumer societies, with This self-denial of being in the product, denies many possibilities of thinking separates us more and more, we instrumented, so blind us that the person by itself can not or do not want to see, but continue to act mechanically without thought or conscience. Being social is replaced by a totally alien individual from himself, a limited individual, disabled, which meets only a certain role in the labor market capitalism offers.