The bitter truth about thirty years

If you were born in the 70-80-ies famous, and are regarded as Mature people, then this text is about you. Every day you go to work, but still don't earn fabulous money? The routine does not bring happiness, and you are sure born for a better life? Then hear about the bitter truth, and nothing but the truth...



Trap high claims, or why we could never be happy?

The generation of our grandmothers rarely dreamed of princes, foreign resorts or even a Martini glass. It all seemed an unattainable luxury. Grandmother rejoiced at the peaceful sky, the opportunity to earn a piece of bread, stable work. Happy, in principle, almost any husband of those years has come the famous: if only did not drink and was not beaten. And most of the rest from the hard work and the birth of children, the time they spent on it to improve comfort, says Minaev, "of shit and webs".

Our generation does not remember those hungry times. Today's 30-year-old don't know what the hardships of the dashing 90-ies: they met their children. Therefore, many of the claims of modern granddaughter grandmothers seem "zartosht". Granddaughter did not want to work in the factory or on the construction site. They do not want to work, let the workers work.

Men dream to be the oligarchs sitting on my ass, working with my hands don't want to, with disdain for work. They would rather half a day to play computer games as a Manager than to vpahivat hands. Women are even worse. They are lazy completely. The ideal leader is good-for-nothing, parasitic oligarch, the concubine. Moreover, who kept bursting or falling, ignoring all laws of supply and demand. The market is saturated with prey sitting around all the Chicks. Of course, putting themselves at the bottom limit of Brad pitt, they will never be happy. There always will be some jerks.

Compare the fat in the 2000's and even today's turbulentnosti country with all other years in its history from the beginning of the century. Objectively, life has become better and easier. Subjective – everywhere hear a Requiem for the hopes. Is moan unrecognized geniuses. The unrecognized and self-proclaimed. No one wants to be easier.
 

The oversaturation.

Another cause of all our misfortunes I declare satiety. Remember how tasty it seems in the campaign stew with potatoes on the coals. What pleasure brings put around a Cup of alcohol? Now compare this with the feeling that we experience in the restaurant, when a Mojito is already zadolbal, and Martini, the Piano was not available. Bars don't already know, than to surprise us. Octopus in every supermarket. There's also exotic fruits, alcohol, rivers,...

We snickering, gentlemen. We have too much and devour tasty, we all too easily gets. We don't appreciate the clothes from last season, forgetting how our grandmothers darned socks. Are you crying that we are bad, in comfortable vehicles with a / C. We always Noah and devour. We don't have enough, nothing surprising.

Rightly said Mavrodi – where a surfeit, there is formed a vacuum. No wonder he once again rebuilt his pyramid in South Africa, wears the same tracksuit and fishing.

To be happy we need to limit myself. No wonder in every religion there is a post. Hungrier than the person, the tastier the food. Than people Serratia, the food tasteless, and the soul is unhappy.
 

Selfishness.

We somehow brought up that we all need. We didn't go to school for 5 kilometers, gnawing granite science. Teachers in the beak brought us knowledge. We are not helping parents in the field – we always provided a hot Breakfast. Many of us don't want kids. Why care about someone? Infantile men are waiting for a caring mommy. Women waiting for the mentally retarded oligarch to jump on his neck and not work. No one wants to do, to give, to give!

We criticize the government, Koster presidents, howling that the country is a mess? And who are we, Lord? Who, if to look truth in the eye? What we deserve really? published

 

P. S. And remember, just changing your mind — together we change the world! ©

 

Source: morena-morana.livejournal.com/tag/%D0%9E%D0%A2%D0%9D%D0%9E%D0%A8%D0%95%D0%9D%D0%98%D0%AF

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