I give myself the freedom to continue writing a little more about the introduction of the previous post, as I am free – still – to write the words that come to mind.

About Weather: Ah! How good were the moments when we were free, in fact, in that time that doesn’t come back. A time when “thinking, speaking, writing and acting” was still possible. A time when the freedom of being sought to justify and represent its rationalities based on lived feelings. Boys becoming truly men; girls becoming women. The responsibility of the deeds were imprinted in its strongest characteristics: the true personality was imprinted and presented to the world. This world, with great strides, ceases to exist every day.

World where prints are replaced by copies. Bulk copies; not more than one person, but a kind of “community” being programmed to act in concert with a higher order. Personalities, once strictly individual, now transmuting into community characteristics. Trying to swim against this tide has become increasingly tiring: at one point the tide takes on its role: absorbing everything possible and discarding everything it deems “useless” to the shore.

The sweet illusion of freedom is increasingly turning into rubbish. A notoriously disposable garbage by the strongly relentless tide.

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