Fake: not genuine; spurious
According that definition, most of the things in the room I'm in are fake. A rock carved to look like a cat.... clay molded to look like a girl.... the amount of things that are fake that surround me is astonishing.
We surround ourselves with fake things. They make up our life. Not many things around us is real: everything is twisted to be something else, not just it. What does this curious habit tell us about ourselves? It definitely tells us of the way we're always trying to be someone else, like that rock which we tried to metamorphose into a cat. We're losing contact with what's real: can we get back in touch with it?
Take, for example, Arab Spring. Unless you were actually there and experienced it, to most of us it was something interesting, to keep track of- not really real to us, it's more like something happening light years away, or something played out for our own benefit. It seems to me, at least, almost fake. In books, people sometimes say, "We're living a lie". And that's what we are. A fake life, with fake things and fake people. TVs show us little figures dancing across a screen- fake. We all are fake. When can we become 'real'?
According that definition, most of the things in the room I'm in are fake. A rock carved to look like a cat.... clay molded to look like a girl.... the amount of things that are fake that surround me is astonishing.
We surround ourselves with fake things. They make up our life. Not many things around us is real: everything is twisted to be something else, not just it. What does this curious habit tell us about ourselves? It definitely tells us of the way we're always trying to be someone else, like that rock which we tried to metamorphose into a cat. We're losing contact with what's real: can we get back in touch with it?
Take, for example, Arab Spring. Unless you were actually there and experienced it, to most of us it was something interesting, to keep track of- not really real to us, it's more like something happening light years away, or something played out for our own benefit. It seems to me, at least, almost fake. In books, people sometimes say, "We're living a lie". And that's what we are. A fake life, with fake things and fake people. TVs show us little figures dancing across a screen- fake. We all are fake. When can we become 'real'?
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