We are born, we die. The only
truth that matters and is always here. Between these two we try to live. And
life, in its complexity, is never simple. Some call it ugly, meaningless,
unbearable. We search for other people, we search for ourselves, and no matter
which road we decide to take, we always ask ourselves questions like “Is this
what I wanted to be?” “What have I done with my life?” “Can I do it or can I
not?” “What is the sense of all these?”
We become parents and we look,
admire, envy the Others, who have their freedom to do something with their lives, to make a difference. Or, we, or our
life take us to a road where the word “family” doesn’t exist, and in our turn,
we admire the Other one, the ones with kids, photo albums and those simple,
sacred things … We look at the Other, we envy them, and probably, if we shift
places, we would still want something else.
We fall in love, and then fall
out of love. We get married, we get divorced, we become widows, or decide to go
on living in a lie. Some are gay, without being their choice, some are addicts,
some are damned for a life of misery, some are cursed from the beginning – by
illnesses, faith or own relatives.
And in all these, we write our own stories, although they have been written billions of times before us, and shall be written again, after us, and still we feel that they are unique. Because they are ours. And in these his/her-stories everybody is waiting. For the great end. For the final pain.
So, there are a few TV series
that I recommend. Six Feet Under is
one of them. For those who want a disturbing Story of the human kind, but
extremely real and vivid, intelligently made, which depicts Life as it is, that
other side, that one that we often call it ugly, miserable, damned, that we
cannot understand, nor accept. But there, more present than the (i)reality in
which we want, desperately try to escape.
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