Skip to main content

It is as if it was necessary not to be humans to be survivours



While I was sweeping my room, they built a wall in Calais. While I was singing at home, they decided to lock the door of Europe. While I was growing up, they prepared the new Europe made of concret and iron. While I was dreaming of a white christmas, they managed to turn Christmas time into the most lucrative trade It has ever existed. While they were teaching me to be obedient, I started to be blind. While they were scaring me by talking to me about hells and devils, I started to be a slave. While they were designing the main lines of the educational system, I became a product of their civilitation. And again, while I was sweeping my room, they arised a concret's wall in Tijuana, in Ceuta, in Greece... May be its because we priorize the shine of our houses that the walls are arising all over the world.
-You are a ripping citizen, because you work in a bank -he told me. And I believed in him. But while I was being happy by working in a bank, some people were losing their houses because they had believed in banks. Some people had been growing up with the credo I had learnt too: being obedient, being scared by hells and devils, being a cute slave of my perfect world, being a perfect product of this civilitation... And all of them, like me, had been arising the sad world of the walls and the iron.


When someone talks to my daughter, she demurres, because she is a shy girl, and because she has a special hint to sort people. Sometimes I wonder why we lose our childish gifts. It is as if we got sick by developing our animal pulses. It is as if we got mad by being adults. It is as if it was necessary not to be humans to be survivours. The eyes of children are so clear! They may be hard, or sored, or upset, or even violent... but these eyes expresses what there is in their heart. May be, they would arise a wall or a jail or a killing machine... but if they understood the bad core of their acts, they would cry and cry... and would change. Adults would hardly do it.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Nudity is not promiscuity. Naturists are not swingers.

Many people confuse nudity with sexuality; but human sexuality is present in all parts of human body, not only in the covered areas.
In my case, I defend the exercise of a responsible sexuality within the family. I believe in freedom, of course, and everyone can do what he wants, but in my personal life, sexuality belongs to family; it is a matter of my wife and me.  On the other hand, I think that a united family is the best place where children can grow up. I think that love should be present in all human relationships. When I say love, I mean really the love, empathy, will of good for people I love. Feeling is neither the cause nor the essence of love. Feeling is an usual result of love. But love is more than feeling . I can say that I love you  when I want all the good for you, in spite that the good for you doesn't mean a pleasure for me, in spite that the good for you means an effort for me. I bathe naked on the beach, and I sunbathe naked, that's true... but I do not prete…

Cañuelo Beach (Tarifa) (Cádiz) Andalucia.

Today I'm not going to write about a Catalan beach, but about Cañuelo beach, in Tarifa (Cadiz) Andalucia. In this beach, we can see a soft continuity between forest and sand. Any paved road is far away. Free nakedness is mixed with swimsuits. Here we have freedom to dress or undress. Sun is reflected on the deep blue sea and on the green pines. When summer dies, winter dress landscape in gala. The Sea grows dark and It bedecks with white handkerchieves.   

Beach is longer than two hundred metres; at ten o'clock, It is immersed in a bright solitude.




At one o'clock, beach is full. Naked people, dressed people... Freedom is chaotic. Uniformity is a consequence of imposition. We must walk along five or six quilometers to escaping from paradise and go back to the civilitation. The path follows a narrow line between the hills of a mountain steeped in beauty.


Sometimes we fear big animals that eat near path. They also fear us.

We see a big sand dune in the distance. The dune emerge fr…

Our society is trapped in the quick-sands of fear

Scott Fitzgerald would writte «the bright tan prayer rug of a beach» to express a feeling that it hardly can be expressed. When we talk about natural beauty we are really talking about our mother, our origin, the source of our being; and not only of our body but our inmost being. The shape of our naked body reveals the paintbrush of a misterious beauty. Here we are a reality beyond the physical interest or the material sensations. Sadly, some people who approach to naturism are trapped on the surface of the matter. We have an iceberg and some times we think that the ice is just the ice mountain outside the sea. What we see dazzles us, but some times it also blinds us. On the other side, we have a society fearing its own being; a society that wears a mask. Where is your voice, society, when you talks as if what you say was the script of a perfect play? Why do you fear your natural voice? Who does tell the truth if everybody says what society wants to hear? I often experience an empt…