Almost ten years ago I -metaphorically- split my head repeatedly, thinking about those things I called “incongruences”.
I couldn’t stand the idea that some people could say something and do totally the opposite, hipocrisy (and back then it was way too easy for something to be so, to me) was a deadly sin, everything had to be black or white and what killed me most was that I couldn’t figure out where I could fit in, nor where I wanted to be or how to do it.
Looking back is easy to say “It was a growth time, teenage-hood period which stems directly from a childish vision of the world, where good people is nice and goodloking, and bad people is ugly and vicious”. Right. But the fact is that I’m only starting to accept things as they are, accept people with all their incongruences (always-late-people complaining about other when they’re late, vegans with leather bags, radical chic -please excuse me, but lately I’ve been using these words for everything, biggest incongruents too, I think it really suits!-, big political rebels always ready to give speeches to the masses then you find out they work for a multinational firm, and so on and so forth) but most of all I’m learning to accept myself with my own incongruencies.
Sometimes pushing, sometimes creating a little nook, I’m finding a place where I feel comfortable.
Also because we live in a world where we use liters of hand sanitizer gels though we believe that a thin layer of paper on the public toilet is enough, where they tell us to eat soy cause it’s healthy and then that soy plantations are deforesting the Amazonian Forest, where they tell us that caffeine is bad but to de-caf coffee they use radioactive stuff (well… we’re close), where we should have 29 hours in a day just to drink all the yogurts and green teas and to eat all the fruits and veggies and colours and food ratios we’re supposed to (and then spend half day in the bathroom), where people put effort into waste separation just to see trucks mixing it all up again just because no one knows who paied taxes, where we have to use ecofriendly lightbulbs against pollution and to go get them we use buses from the Fifties, where we spend too much on biolAmazzoniaogical food that’s been collected by a filthy cancer-inducing tractor, where heating has to be low at home though stores have wide open doors shooting hot air across the street…
I don’t think I’ll ever find a reason to all this, but I’m accepting the fact that there is no meaning at all.
“anche se tante coseeee un senso non ce l’ haaaaaaaaaaa”!
Ah, gli amici… scrivi una spataffiata profonda e riflessiva e loro ti citano Vasco…
No aspetta… hai citato Vasco sul mio blog??? Potrei disconoscerti, donna! U_U
accidenti Euforilla…mi hai dato uno spunto per pensare. Io ho 31 anni e la fase adolescenziale l’ho passata da un pezzo, eppure le incongruenze ancora mi fanno acido, comprese le mie ovviamente, anzi soprattutto le mie. Sono d’accordo sul fatto che accettarle renda meno nevrotici. Però santo cielo! il trattore lercio e cancerogeno sul cereale biologico no dai! : DD
Ho la tendenza ad esasperare un po’ i miei esempi, sorry XD però non così tanto: è fin troppo vero che ci sono campi a coltivazione biologica appiccicati a campi a coltivazione “classica” e quindi dove sta il biologico se quelli di fianco spruzzano pesticidi a tutto spiano?
Comunque anche a me ancora fanno acido, ma almeno riesco a passarci sopra, prima proprio no!