Life After God


Hace mucho que leí este libro. No lo tengo ahora en mis manos pero he recuperado algunas citas que he encontrado por Internet. Es muy breve, casi una historia hecha a base de aforismos. Qué bueno es Coupland...



'And then I felt sad because I realised that once people are broken in certain ways, they can't ever be fixed, and this is something nobody ever tells you when you are young and it never fails to surprise you as you grow older as you see the people in your life break one by one. You wonder when your turn is going to be, or if it's already happened.'- Life After God


"'Nothing, baby,' I said, stopping myself then and there - feeling suddenly more dreadful than you can imagine having told you about these animals - filling your head with these stories - stories of these beautiful little creatures who were all supposed to have been part of the fairy tale but who got lost along the way."- Life After God


"Feeling at that point where I just wanted to borrow somebody else's coat - borrow somebody else's life - their aura. I seemed to have lost the ability to create any more aura on my own."- Life After God



Our conversations are never easy, but as I — we — get older, we are all finding that our conversations must be spoken. A need burns inside us to share with others what we are feeling. Beyond a certain age, sincerity ceases to feel pornographic. It is as though the coolness that marked our youth is itself a type of retrovirus that can only leave you feeling empty. Full of holes.



This is not to say my life is bad. I know it isn't...but my life is not what I expected it might have been when I was younger. Maybe you yourself deal with this issue better than me. Maybe you have been lucky enough to never have inner voices question you about your own path--or maybe you answered the questioning and came out on the other side. I don't feel sorry for myself in any way. I am merely coming to grips with what I know the world is truly like.



Life was charmed but without politics or religion. it was the life of children of the children of the pioneers--life after God--a life of earthly salvation on the edge of heaven. Perhaps this is the finest thing to which we may aspire, the life of peace, the blurring between dream life and real life--and yet I find myself speaking these words with a sense of doubt. I think there was a trade-off somewhere along the line.


I think the price we paid for our golden life was an inability to fully believe in love; instead we gained an irony that scorched everything it touched. And I wonder if this irony is the price we paid for the loss of God.


But then I must remind myself we are living creatures--we have religious impulses--we must --and yet into what cracks do these impulses flow in a world without religion? It is something I think about every day. Sometimes I think it is the only thing I should be thinking about.

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Beto ha dicho que…
Gracias por la recomendacion, se ve bastante interesante. Tratare de encontrarlo.