there a trade today and lost, whose memory allows me to raise my puberty, on moderately absurd while walking aimlessly through the streets of Mexico. Not going from nowhere to nowhere, I went to a meeting and was accompanied by someone. He walked to put down, to stretch your legs to get away from my house to kill time, to think and, above all, because I expected something, not an event off the charts, but "something" means any thing capable of distracting . Invariably arrived at the intersection of avenues and Popo South Coyoacán where he was the bottling Jarritos soft drinks and there, as in cabinet, behind a window, there were three people with their backs to the street that looked over the newly filled bottles. It was an endless parade of helmets and employees had to monitor the liquid level reached the agreed or had not cast any impurity. Behind the soft light was a powerful display and the three spent the day dazzled and, like Sisyphus, chained to the treadmill.
Each Therefore, some stretched out his arm and pulled the offending bottle row. I stood there, watching for hours, until reconciled with my life ended, there was something worse than I am standing in my class in sixth grade, there was something worse than my walks aimlessly. Against this window was found that years later defined as "alienated labor" in Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844 Karl Marx. But since then, even without having the concept, the activity of those employees I was aberrant.
wore a white coat and were part not only of the Quality Control department, but of Marketing, because I was not the only one who watched, but many people stopped to watch and while I was awakened me all kinds of sad thoughts about life that fate, others were pleased and clapped hygiene measures in the bottling and certainly more than happy to buy Jarritos.
Today, many years of my puberty, I'm trying to imagine what those three people thought before the parade of soft drinks, what would happen in the head while the eyes are passing bottles and bottles? I am no longer happy with the explanation he gave me then, and with which I assumed after reading Karl Marx, today not even convince me that offered Chaplin in his film Modern Times: I do not believe they have had a mind blank I'm not so sure my old dogmas, I'm not even sure there was an activity so abhorrent.
That office and the like disappeared planet with the advancement of information technology: my three robots were launched long ago to retirement or the street: electronic sensors became useless one day and away from the endless belt, as they had separated the filled bottles wrong or dirty. One day he found free from what I assumed the worst fate possible job. It was not like there was something worse for them: no longer do even that.
As I write these words I realize that my work and theirs is like: I'm sitting for hours in front of a bright, go look at the words, let they serve, remove those that do not, I do not wear white coats and I'm in a glass case but it may be that, as well as I go through my head stories and ideas, to them has been the same as his hands did nothing.
Each Therefore, some stretched out his arm and pulled the offending bottle row. I stood there, watching for hours, until reconciled with my life ended, there was something worse than I am standing in my class in sixth grade, there was something worse than my walks aimlessly. Against this window was found that years later defined as "alienated labor" in Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844 Karl Marx. But since then, even without having the concept, the activity of those employees I was aberrant.
wore a white coat and were part not only of the Quality Control department, but of Marketing, because I was not the only one who watched, but many people stopped to watch and while I was awakened me all kinds of sad thoughts about life that fate, others were pleased and clapped hygiene measures in the bottling and certainly more than happy to buy Jarritos.
Today, many years of my puberty, I'm trying to imagine what those three people thought before the parade of soft drinks, what would happen in the head while the eyes are passing bottles and bottles? I am no longer happy with the explanation he gave me then, and with which I assumed after reading Karl Marx, today not even convince me that offered Chaplin in his film Modern Times: I do not believe they have had a mind blank I'm not so sure my old dogmas, I'm not even sure there was an activity so abhorrent.
That office and the like disappeared planet with the advancement of information technology: my three robots were launched long ago to retirement or the street: electronic sensors became useless one day and away from the endless belt, as they had separated the filled bottles wrong or dirty. One day he found free from what I assumed the worst fate possible job. It was not like there was something worse for them: no longer do even that.
As I write these words I realize that my work and theirs is like: I'm sitting for hours in front of a bright, go look at the words, let they serve, remove those that do not, I do not wear white coats and I'm in a glass case but it may be that, as well as I go through my head stories and ideas, to them has been the same as his hands did nothing.
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