The antidote of success: my Manifesto loser


the Social network has long ceased to be a means of communication or alternative channels of information, and became the place of aggressive promotion of their services or a non-stop competition "Whose success is more successful”.

Like peacocks, dissolve each other tails, people face off with bouquets and chocolates, which gave a mysterious admirer, are in a permanent journey, while managing to work productively. Run around 10 miles a day, lose weight in 5 sizes, on the background of the new photos menu of the most popular restaurants.  Boast of the successes of the children, are increasing by 3 times, while it accidentally released 3 new clients. Learned all the foreign languages, the native in perfection. Know where to make the best purchase and receive the quality service. Who, in the end, to vote in the upcoming elections.

Instagram kill each other by the number of subscribers. And soon, if 300 people instead of 3 million –this is a reason not to call you in a decent home and a decent event. Because you're a loser, you signed only 300 people, 3 of them - your mom, a school friend and a cat. It seems that people do not age, do not make mistakes, not afraid, do not leave, do not lose their job, always know what to do and have expert opinion about everything, even on the ball bearing plant.

not surprisingly, from a long stay in the network a bad mood. But not to be in them we can not, again because of the work, information, business, relationship. So I want to write something antispace. Manifesto of a loser. To remind myself that I'm alive, I'm not a robot.

it's getting harder to take your age, particularly as he changes the face and body.

Back in the mind or the reactions of their 20 or even 30 years I did not want. To maintain a firm oval of the face, firm ass, sassy sticking Tits - very even. But the day I walk into the office of a plastic surgeon and ask to pull yourself to the priest on the face or to raise cheekbones to the ears will be the worst day of my life. I hope by the time I have at least one loyal friend who will shoot.

less I need other people, even those closest to you and it frightens you because of the life you spend to create these most close people, and then not know what to do with them.

With age, a lot of intimacy tiring. And I don't know how to admit to them that loneliness, some small female “bun” alone attract more any communication, activity, involvement in someone. Probably because with age, you finally know yourself and it turns out that you yourself wondering. 

amount of laziness increases in direct proportion to age, and I, like my old cat, suddenly became the thing to all the Goodies.

In his youth, you love them too, but then just once is. You're in love, in work, in ideas, in suffering, in search of new meanings. And then suddenly you've formed a lot of space where you, the cat and something tasty. And you're looking at the cat “Man, what ran, out on Facebook people participate in the marathon”, he says “come on give me one sandwich with sausage, if you are already running”. And both of you remain quiet at home have a sandwich and talk with Sonicamy, pitoresque, marathon runners, nutritionists, supervolume lady I am ashamed you have nothing to say.

Instagram I only have 224 subscriber and those with no clue what wind is.

My friend experienced blogger says “You have to position yourself is an amazing psychologist, no “I am a neophyte”, “a beginner blogger”, “for”, “trying”, we must write as if now will show people some amazing knowledge”. But what if this knowledge I do not? There is the experience of life, work. Thoughts. Ideas. Dreams. Husband. 2 cat. And it's all so messy intertwined that I can't focus and write only about work. Therefore, still amazed that this is all anyone is interested.

with age, the armor becomes heavy.

the youth need to stay, don't cry, don't show that hurt, stung, struck, dropped, or simply not up and will not go forward. So many things I want to do. And you go, jingling armor. Undefeated, proud, confident. With age, the armor becomes heavy. Or rust. Corrosion. Through them, seeping tears, sentimentality, vulnerability. Therefore, I often cry. But I'm not ashamed of this as before. No longer need to maintain the fantasy that you iron, so people in armor, who knows everything be alien.

of Course, you can behave in a network according to the principle of the old joke "and you say”. But then this gap between the real and the virtual is expanding the area of depression, the number of which every year more and more.

In recent years, has become a very common phrase "to be the best version of myself”.

as a person and As a psychologist, I know that in one earthly life we have one version of myself do not have time to find, study. To experience how it all works. And social order is already driving us to improve what we have not yet figured out. To improve. Become even more successful. And this is another step into the abyss of depression to strive to improve what may well perfect.

So I choose to stay in the model itself, a 1974 release. And of course it loses to models 1989 or 2000.  But that's what progress is all - new replaces the old. Instead of the old trying to convince that he doesn't age. Or not compete in the power category.

Author: Elena Sundra

SOURCE: women's magazine  LISA

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