Last night I dreamed that the Mona Lisa was smiling at the hairy monkey. At that man who, desperate and neurotic, already "one" artist with a name, invented and invented everything that appeared in his mind, whether for war or for peace. Frenetic. Seized with fury at the mystery that that woman did not reveal to him. And that not all the fame and goods and powers of the world were going to bring him.
She seemed to be saying to him, there is no renaissance without me, crazy. Then Munch's man appeared, completely overwhelmed by his astonishment and horror at seeing the river flowing down full of plastics. Then the Mona Lisa appeared and hugged him, then separated his hands from his ears and, bringing her mouth closer, whispered to him: "It will be better if we accompany each other."
That birds pick up plastics and transport them in their crops and then give them as food to their young is not normal; it is very anomalous. That whales die from ingesting plastic without realizing the error is not normal; it is very anomalous.
On land, it doesn't usually happen so obviously that an animal eats plastics directly. That is strange because there are more senses besides sight. And the birds that pick up plastics in the sea do not do it on land. It is easy to deduce that the sea somehow camouflages the stick.
It is easy for it to be giving it to us already and we still do not have it completely swallowed. "It will be better if we accompany each other," I dreamed she said.
By Ginés Díaz