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aberrations of Christmas

remember with joy that, as a child, he expected Christmas? Making the tree, wait for gifts, spy in the kitchen while preparing the food of the great dinner and walk around the streets the center decorated with flashing lights, music and colors ... that poetry, memories ...

now ... What a nightmare: You wake up in the morning of 1 December and the first thought that gives you a good morning is as follows: "Fuck, in a little 'is Christmas!"

Leaving aside the consideration that the previous Christmas seems to spend no more than a month (and that takes you to countless tristerrime and ruminations on how to fly the years, and soon you'll find yourself surrounded by grandchildren to make sweaters and to combat osteoporosis), at the age of just over 30 years you realize that Christmas brings with it an infinite series of broken boxes, monsters, aberrations of real! Want some examples? Here is served:

put it in first place, since we have entered into full pre-Christmas weather, traffic and the amount of spasmodic stoned, streets in those days. Platoons idiot looking for ideas and gifts as they walk into a trance in the street and sidewalks, looking glued to the windows, loads of bags as the sherpas of Rinascente, Intimissimi, Coin. You poor unfortunate that you left because you forgot to buy milk, come in spite of yourself pressed against the window of Calzedonia, and the only way to get rid of the old croocchio aunts who press against you, enchanted by the complete candy pink with sequins that "would be perfect for Teresa," is to get involved in the consultation, noting: "if I buy that horror is not even my grandmother who sews sequins on pants!"

If you are driving does not improve the situation: driving, attempting to convince you that basically it is nice to the spirit of Christmas, and biofeedback to help this plant on the stereo you a selection of the most famous Christmas songs. And so, just as "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" spreads goodness in your little cabin, and have your eye becomes more joyful and persuades you that we are all better people, a cry and a foreign devil horns hurt your ear Christmas: "A fool! That car is mine!" "A stoned, trovatene another, I saw him first!" - Scoured, sleeping peacefully at the pedestrian who is waiting for a bus and stoned ... goes against blaspheming the next famous divine child ... because at Christmas we are all better people!

Beautiful are those who, for lack of time and desire, decide to make all the gifts in the same store and they forgot the tastes and peculiarities of the recipients. So you choose the theme of the moment: "This year I buy everything in the library" ... it does not matter if the great-aunt Amelia is illiterate, find someone willing to read the latest book by Emilio Fede, no?

Personally, I remain baffled by the prices of food Christmas: a cake business (presumably made of chili powders, spices, baking powder and instant ... Avogli Mr Maina to say "slowly ... good good. .. seeeeeee !!!!) is around € 5-6: Luckily, I am not with my ex, who used to discard all the raisins, depositing it lovingly on a napkin and then throw it ... aho, today would have been at least 2 € of stuff, tze!

And you can turn on the television these days? Advertising chain on the worst products for children (because you know, they are the target greedy at Christmas) in a day of rest from work I discovered that there are puppets who dance the twist, walk, speak ... but so far nothing new ... that I did not know is that now there is also the doll scureggia (and who says, "Mommy, I did prrrrr ".... that shit, just to stay in theme), then there crying and Ciccio Bello that will calm down only if you put near Winnie Pooh ... but what does it say? Mo 'well dolls misbehave? We arrived at the doll in the doll? Are you kidding ?????
The other day, the offers of a hypermarket, I caught "The foals Barbie !!!!": but that is, a sex toy??

short, is a delusion, a madhouse ... I must admit that as I was a smart little girl, my perceptions were far too large child on Christmas! From the top of my wisdom, the feeling I have is that of a collective abandonment to un'ebete madness of Christmas ... the real one there is nothing left, and perhaps the soft doll today do not even know what it celebrates: I'm not surprised go see a child today in front of a giant crib and ask his mother: "Mum, but that doll cries, burps or is that if you give them the Play Station ended all square Tomb Raider and then turns into a Pokemon?"

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Today Miss Grumbler not joking. For once, no small irony and sbofonchiamenti newspapers in the great tragedies of my life ... just a bitter and a bit 'guilty thinking about real life stories that I / surround us, and often do not know or want to ignore.
For once my work as a market researcher I was away from home with their usual dash, or dall'inamidato manager and graphics of its new credit card, to launch the shadowy world of the immigrant population.
From within a week and go from the homes of Chinese, Moroccan, Ukraine, Peru, Philippines, Italy in 10 or one year, immersing strong smell of their kitchen, in the extravagance their furniture, their Italian far-fetched at times barely mentioned.
COMPANY PRINCIPAL OBJECTIVE: to discover the eating habits of many immigrants now in order to pack & advertising products that are able to take in the network of Western consumerism.
GRUMBLER MISS TARGET (in addition to meeting the company) to take this opportunity to understand what makes an immigrant from X to drop everything and come to Italy in search of fortune.

I was warmly welcomed, dates stuffed with giant African rice with culantro and other gadgets to me so far unknown, and numb with tales participated and suffered in the history of each ...

... all different stories, held together by the invisible thread of despair, a kind of despair totally etranea my life on the edge of the inhabitants of the First World.

So I discovered that you can get by knowing that your mother died in your country, and that you will not be able to attend his funeral, because you're an illegal, and if you leave the country then you can not return there, I discovered that a red shirt you buy it only when you pit one you have on him, because there is no reason to have two, I discovered that for some words such as "leisure", "pizza with friends" and "shopping" are abstract terms, of which we hear, but do not fall into the vocabulary of his life. I discovered that you can work for 18 hours straight without ... which then leads nell'esaurimento nervous and anti-stress therapies.

And so, as I came home on my new shoes, bought on a whim, I felt lucky and a bit 'silly, for my daily loss in my dissatisfaction in my complaints in my big problems.

I learned my lesson going to Africa, but then the shiny Western drama that takes place, my life has gradually blurred memories, thoughts and intentions. But quste silent shadows are also here, with me on the subway crowd, trampled upon the sidewalks.

not get me wrong: I do not renounce my happy life, are not obscured by syndromes S. Francis, who will take me to strip all of my possessions (which?) To follow the path of want and poverty ... but maybe there is something to learn. If under the weight of these stories there is still the spirit to make a smile, then there is something to learn!

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Traviata from a hard week of work, I decided to draw the sacred tablets of the freelance sorry. Or you still looking for jobs, do not be fooled by the sweet honey of the profession and slothful, and yearn with force on a chair and a desk Ikea to rest your butt in perpetuity. Repair your ears from the mellifluous song of the siren of independence, it will turn in a piercing scream, sooner or later ...

... do not believe me? Look here:

1) The freelance thinks to be master of himself, and to work with its time and its rhythms. Result: works from Monday to Friday, Easter, Christmas, Saturdays and Sundays;

2) When the freelance basks in the sun of August on the beach, surrounded by a thousand other people, can not help but think livid anger at that moment, someone is paying the thousand people who innocently sguazzettano in the crystal, while he is losing precious working days ... feeling like a slacker, and the super-smashing work that will shoot in September to amortize month-nothing;

3) When the evenings of winter, the freelance warns worrying shivers down my back, a nagging sore throat and intestinal dangerous landslides, can not afford to think, "Tomorrow I call for a sick day," but imbottirà of antipyretics and analgesics, saying: "Shit, I have to go to work tomorrow with the flu!"

4) The freelance work for everyone, but everyone thinks that only works for them. This implies that all ask you to deliver the work on the same day.

5) The freelancers can not afford to be nasty and ill-treated his colleagues did not ... the freelance colleagues, but only customers and customers - you know - is always right.

6) The freelance fees are not removed upstream, no, must pay for it alone ... and I assure you, for those like me who do not have hair on my stomach to jump the fence to the fertile pastures of small evaders , is a double turning of chestnuts!

7) When the freelancer has a week off from work to devote himself to just relax and tends to be pampered by these reassuring thoughts: "Damn, I did not call anyone, I'll end on the pavement!" "Oh God, I have to pay VAT, I need work!"


short, young shoots of the labor market, when you meet those young people climbing on their macchinucce are polished, which fill the sheets of stamps fuel bill and ask for the cap in the morning, do not be intimidated: squared shoulders, stick out your chest and proudly sventagliategli under your nose dignitossisimo Co. Co. Pro

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Lay carpets, throw petals, for the Society of dodger:

Applause to you, young girl full of hopes, instead of wasting money on the grate of the goddess Minerva hasten in droves to audition for the GF and Veline: You are assured of success, fame and doors;

Incense to you, sprightly old lady frequents clubs and theaters in bridge, for obtaining disability pension and accompany, who fortunately still pretending dementia not hit you, you just removed an aid to one of your own age who perhaps had a right indeed;

bow to you, men of the TV, which clouded our minds with less and less worthy of human intelligence programs: there are cultivating a large flock of sheep more docile;

Congratulations to you, men of humanitarian organizations, which transformed the collected funds for the poor people in smoke, or dry food for dogs to be sent to the children of Africa do you see the thank you to wag their tails?

Then for you, a skilled politician by easy promises, you have the wit to shape the law on your personal trouble: You have secured a peaceful night and happy dreams;

Treats you, the oligarchs of the Earth, that nourished the public opinion with the tasty flavor of democracy, exporting vulgar dictatorship were conquering the world;

I take my hat off all'esimia Company of the dodger, who holds the fate of the World that is the honest look stupid, naive pure, upright ... the loser and that is making the place where I live more and more suffocating ...

dedicated to you ... the thought of a man who was right, too long ago. No, do not try to remember who he is: did not participate in any reality, then you probably do not know: If I had

fire arderei 'the world
if I was the wind, the tempestarei
if I were water, the 'drowning
if I were God, mandereil' en deep

(Angiolieri Cecco, 1260 to 1312?)