Lately, j 'I received from a friend in Madrid a text entitled "monologo de la mujer liberada" . The text is supposed to have been written by a woman, I was amused and sobering but I would have liked to know the identity of its author, even if only to clarify whether (as I think) an author or indeed a writer. This kind of text circulating on the internet, an email address peddled to several others, and amended again on different blogs Hispanic, but I have not been possible to trace the source. During my research with my friend Google, I was able to read different comments condemning or approving the text. In all cases, the positions were quite settled and I was wondering what could be the reaction of French readers.
The blog where I tracked down the oldest one is . The text published December 28, 2006 is already different from that received from this friend. The blogger does not claim credit and claims not to know the author (s), either. Do
having found no trace in French, so I translate. Feel free to copy and retransmit it. If one day he comes back to me through an email, peddled and changed in turn, at least I know who is the author of the original French version.
"Do not give up, it is so fragile ... "
It's 6 o'clock in the morning. The alarm keeps ringing and did not even have enough strength to throw it against the wall. I am drained. I do not want to go to work today, I want to stay at home, cooking, listening to music, singing, etc.. If I had a dog, I walk him around. Anything rather than get out of bed, the first set and having to walk in the brain.
I wonder who was stupid witch, the matrix of feminists, who had the "big idea" to assert the rights of women, and why the has she done for us who were born after it.
Everything was so well the days of our grandmothers! They spent all day embroidering, exchanging recipes with their friends, teach each other the secrets of flavors, tips, home remedies, reading good books from the library of their husbands, decorating the house, by transplanting shrubs, planting flowers, harvesting vegetables from the garden and educating their children. Life was a great creative leisure courses, alternative medicine and cooking.
Best thereafter, we had our auxiliaries. Came the phone, soap operas, the pill, shopping malls, credit cards, and now ... the Internet!
How many hours of peace, fun and personal achievement technology has brought us! Until a turkey (which, at first glance, did not wearing a corset) from contaminating with strange ideas on "conquer our space", several other rebel inconsequential.
But what name space to a dog? " If we had the whole house! The whole neighborhood was ours, the world was at our feet!
I was not sure how to translate "corpiño" so I looked for images
We had complete domination over men, they depended on us for eating, dressing and looking good for their friends. Now where the hell are they? Now they are lost, they do not know what role they hold in society, we flee like the devil shuns cross. This joke, this joke has finally crush us homework. And worst of all, we ended up thrown into the dungeon of acute chronic loneliness.
Formerly, unions lasted forever. Why, tell me why, one who enjoyed the best sex, that just needed to be fragile and to be guided by life, he started competing males? Who the hell is it gone through his mind?
Look at the size of their biceps and watch the size of ours. It was very clear this was not going to end well!
I can not stand to be subject to the daily ritual of being skinny as a broomstick, but with tits and ass are firm, for which I must kill myself at the gym, in addition to starvation, I spread with moisturizers, wrinkle, suffer the complex of old radiator taking of water all hours, and other arms to keep from falling defeated by old age
Me
makeup flawlessly every morning from the neckline to face, have your hair clean and keep up with my color, because the locks are gray worse than leprosy, choose my clothes, my shoes and accessories, will happen not that I'm not presentable for this workshop.
No, that's not all: having to decide which fragrance fits with my mood, or have run out and get stuck in traffic and having to solve half of it through my mobile, running the risk of being assaulted, die struck by a van or a motorcycle, settle all day working in front of the PC as a slave (modern, obviously), with a phone to your ear while solving problems, one behind the other, which also are not my problem!
And all this to come out with red eyes (for the screen, obviously, because for the heartaches there is more time). And to think we had any Harmonized!
We pay the price for being always in shape without wrinkles, without hair, smiling, scented with our perfect nails. And not to mention the impeccable resume, filled with diplomas, doctoral degrees and specialties.
We turned into "superwomen" ... but we continue to earn less than them and, anyway, they give us orders! Was it not better, much better, continue knitting in rocking chair?
Enough! I want someone to hold me the door so I can pass, he brings the chair when I sit, he sends me flowers, love letters with poems, and plays serenades under my window. If we knew that we had a brain and we could use it, why did it take the show them?
Oh, my god! It is 6:30 ET I must get up. It is cool that solitaire huge bed! I want a little husband arrives from work, sit down on the sofa and tell me: "My love, bring me a whiskey you, please?" or "What-there for dinner?". Because I discovered that it is far better to pay him a homemade dinner rather than choke on a sandwich and a Coca-cola light while completing the work brought home.
You think I joke? No, my dear fellow, intelligent, conducted in "liberated", and ... abandoned water bottles! I talk very seriously. I abdicate my position of women "liberated" or modern.
Someone else joins me?
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