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Rio 2016- the most authentic Olympic games

For the last couple of months there has been an absolute uproar over Rio being the host of the 2016 Summer Olympic Games. Even I was against it at first- like many, I raised my fist with the rest and roared: “Say no to bribing! Say no to corruption! Say no to human rights violations! There are people starving while the corrupt politicians and officials make money! It’s disgusting!”

But after seeing the picture of favelas illuminated by the fireworks coming from an Olympic stadium in the background, I changed my mind.

The Rio Olympics represent the cruel reality of our society, of our world really. The games represent the best but also the worst. We cannot protest only when our athletes are not treated right. What about all those people living in poverty, crime and hunger on a daily basis? Why are we not making a bigger deal out of that?

No matter what you hated or loved about the Rio Olympics, at least it was not pretending to be something it was not. It was real, dysfunctional, dangerous, exciting, sad and challenging at the same time. It was not the pink-eyed version of our world, but rather an authentic one. Even athletes, many of which come from destitute backgrounds, gave us their best and their ugliest, their rawest, just like our world really is, in case you forgot.

 

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The Pre Mid-life Crisis

I often consider moving away from Western culture, perhaps to find a new life somewhere in Asia, purely for the fact I wouldn’t have to deal with the obsession of youth. 17-year olds  jumping around me with their perfect not wrinkled faces, wide smiles, and bodies to die for. I can’t stand it!

I’m getting older (early 30’s, woah there!) and no one views me as wiser in this country, just older. I want to be the Senex, the Sage, the Sophos when I get older! (The only result a wise woman title showed up on Google was a “wise woman botanical supplement”, so yeah, I am taking the wise men titles, pardon me).

I want to have something to look forward to. I spent my youth obsessing about my weight and appearance. Now that I am finally somewhat comfortable with myself, I am getting older and that’s all people see me as. Just another old(er) fart. I dread the next 20 years because the trend seems to be “just let yourself go.” Of yourself, your goals, your ambitions. They don’t matter because you’re just getting old and less capable.

So call me a Senex, find my knowledge useful. If I have to deal with the loss of youthfulness, at least appreciate me for my distinguished wisdom and sound judgement.

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