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Mom, I'm famous!


I took the photo while taking a walk. I arrived at the stairs of the Avinguda del Santuari de Sant Josep de la Muntanya by chance. Actually, the walk started out as a walk to get away from the disgust I felt at having to go for a walk. The unexpected and moody walk began and ended at my house as is normal for all of us who aspire to walk without being nomads. The walk, if you can call it a walk to go up to Park Güell and go down like John Silver, had a stop. As you can see in the image, I stopped a few meters from the railing, I stopped to break the rules and lower my mask for a second. My intention was not to take a picture or write what you are reading. My intention was only to breathe fresh air and inspect how the boat was from the top. You could say that I took out the monocular to focus on one of the candles that can be seen in the depths of the photo. You could say that I don't know anything about photography, a world that I don't know and that I don't pretend to know either. Some savvy person could say that I frequent the Kasa de la Muntanya, but of the house I only know the stones that protect the neighbors who resist the system and the damages of the few neighbors that surround them. Those few are the ones who look down on me and I bet the money I don't have that if you walk by they will look down on you too. Be careful, I could also say that I took the photo so that the patients who are admitted to the Hospital de la Esperanza do not lose hope while they are confined to their rooms. I know it would look nice even if it sounded cheesy, but if I said it it would look very bad with colleagues who continue to give their lives for miserable salaries in hospitals in Spain and around the world. It could be said that, when crossing the street, those who live under the roofs are asking their God to end the pandemic and for peace and gender equality to reign in the world. In the last I have many doubts and I suppose that the women who live in the basement have the same doubt when they fulfill the obligation that has them condemned. Many things could be said. And all the things that could be said would be right and wrong and would be indifferent like this photo and this text that I don't know why I'm writing. Or maybe I do know and I just wanted to develop:Mom, I'm famous!When I first read the sticker ofMom, I'm famous!I laughed and no one could see me because I had already put on my mask. When I read it again, already on the screen of my phone, I wondered who could be the author or the author of that exclamatory and sticky sentence and stick it on the top of the mountain. I wondered if it was a movement. I searched the internet and found an account on Instagram:@mama_im_famous. In the social network you can see many photos ofMom, I'm famous!in different cities of the world. I am already one of themfollowersand I want to take the opportunity to congratulate the author or author who wrote:Mom, I'm famous!Although the phrase implies that the author is a man, I was left with the doubt that perhaps it is a woman or women, in this way, it would increase or increase anonymity even more. There is also the possibility that they are an anonymous movement orundergroundwho wants to make us think critically. I came to this conclusion after resuming my unmotivated walk. I came home withMom, I'm famous!bouncing in my head and here I am bouncing the keyboard and the only neuron I have and that jumps with bitterness and happiness further compressing the disks that I have damaged. If the anonymous person or the anonymous person or the group of anonymous ultras that stuck the sticker wanted to make me think, draw your own conclusions, because as I said before, the neuron I have is focused on finishing this text that I don't know why I'm writing when I'm barely I can stay seated. The readings ofMom, I'm famous!they can be infinite. For this reason I will not expand and I will explain a conclusion. I am going to explain only one because I know that I could expand; for example, that the educational model is obsolete and thatusThey make believe that being famous and being successful are reasons for mothers and fathers to be proud of the lives they lead.they launchedto the world (inusadvertising and news media enter and inthey launchedenter the Heideggerians and all those who sold and sell promises to exchange votes and hosts that will hurt the future ejected). That educational model is what they taught our parents. It is for this reason that our parents are not only not to blame, but they are victims and victimizers like the grandparents of our grandparents. I know that I could become the critic and the philosopher who believes that hitting a keyboard-shaped tambourine and pointing, with the index finger vertically, at the Industrial Revolution and Taylorism and all the isms would leave me with a full belly and as an eccentric and superbly contradictory. I know that if I say that consumerism turned us into machines that produce garbage so that others who are also garbage eat and shit the garbage that others who are even more garbage than those who die from eating the garbage we throw away will eat it, I would be cynical, reflexive and self-centered . As I said before, this sentence is one of multiple readings and infinite conclusions and I would just like to close with the only question that my only and admired neuron has asked: Is there an expectant mother or a disappointed father waiting for his offspring to arrive and tell him between tears or laughter:Mom, I'm famous!?

Maximiliano Rodriguez Neighbor

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