Ebbene, ecco un altro dei miei “sermoni”, ma dopo aver visto il film Dorian Gray, dovevo assolutamente buttare giù tutto quello che pensavo. Mi sono detta, mille anni fa la bellezza era sinonimo di diabolicità, ovvero ciò che era bello e che quindi seduceva al primo sguardo, anche fugace, era opera del diavolo. Cosa avrebbe detto la gente se avesse visto un fanciullo come Dorian Gray non invecchiare mai? Ma certo, che si era venduto l’anima, che aveva stretto lo stolto patto col maligno, che era posseduto, che era un demone. Insomma, uno come Dorian Gray nel Medioevo non sarebbe sopravvissuto, sarebbe finito at the stake, people would look at you in the Middle Ages too, was careful to wrinkles on the faces of others, the beauty and youth female than male ones were synonymous with something evil, then woe to be nice, woe to be young. The same Michelet in his book The Witch says that "we were told: you are old," and they were old, withered, wrinkled, old, fearful of the leaves crunch under your feet and leaves of the trees raised by the weak spring air that they said moved by demons and spirits. Ah
diabolical beauty, You got those who still followed and you give? In fairy tales, for example, almost all the medieval background, the beautiful Witch protagonist and antagonist are primarily on this fact: the beauty and youth as both are in a sense synonymous with seduction. The beautiful is always beautiful, always young, always cheerful and happy, but naive, lazy, ignorant of the dangers, he thinks that only idle running all day on horseback through the woods. What will then? It has no gun, only has a sword with him. What will it take then? The hero, I say, what else can you do? No other man than trying to do their absolute beauty in women, that canon supreme and so terribly ephemeral, disappearing, it becomes wrinkled and ugly. Bizarre that in fairy tales, its medieval background, there are beautiful women. Of course the heroine is beautiful, beautiful, sublime, Aphrodite, but always passes into trouble and why? Because it's beautiful because someone is envious of her beauty to get to anything to be like you or hinder them, for turning him out, even if it is known that in fairy tales, it's always nice to win in the end no matter what. But what do they mean all these stories, where there are all these beautiful, in the end? Since the setting is medieval, and since that often refers to this time, it is not wrong to say that among the many moral, it also alludes to the fact that in that distant time, the beauty was regarded as a sin and that hurts too much beauty, and evil. Dorian Gray makes a pact with the devil to remain silent while his beautiful portrait will bring for him, as his soul, however, the signs of aging and its sins. Not infrequently, the legends of women in front of a mirror they exchanged their souls for their beauty. And today in our modern Middle Ages, in sharp contrast with the past, the beauty is all'antipode opposite, that value has become supreme and absolute, without which today has none. You're nobody if you're not beautiful, if you are clever, if you're an opportunist, if you are really willing to do anything to that value for which you will be taken into account only: beauty. Every day they invent of all types of products to preserve the beauty of both her and him: anti-wrinkle creams that act at the molecular level, anti-aging creams, potions of all kinds, antidotes to the passage of time, but still has the years on our skin. Every day on the market are made new antidotes against old age, these antidotes to the end and then do well, you do not know and maybe it does not matter. If the creams do not work then, if these antidotes were not up to the hopes and expectations, there is always the remedy of a tailor, or the surgeon, cut and paste, copy and paste and this is a new woman, but it must be careful, there is a risk that something is cut, tear. Doll in leather human, always in the laboratory for new enhancements. But time passes, these dolls grow old, ugly, withering, shaking from the pain for the beauty that was not grateful to them because their portfolio. And then you say I feel old, which are bad, even the mirror reflects them the harsh realities: the beauty is ephemeral and it is never something eternal. Lord is good and what they like, not what is aesthetically beautiful and seems eternal. A woman, the most beautiful in the world can be even more handsome in the eyes of the world, the ugliest woman, because he does not like, though not everyone thinks like him. A
the things they do more harm to women is told they are ugly, because it hurts the pride, respect and even the vanity, a vanity with an initial age of puberty is a vanity to say so, is of varying degree depending on the experience of living for everyone, perhaps you can not even call vanity, there is a draft, however, ready to explode into something that will be different depending on how the individual will be in the outside community. In middle school, I could see, the girls who usually have something signed, that does not have pimples, which have no defects, which are thin and become queens because they feel the also feel observed by their peers of the opposite sex. Look, here comes the vanity, the vanity of being the best, most beautiful, ready to ally themselves and fight according to your convenience. Then there are the girls who are still developing, those who have just become women, who have the equipment to the teeth, which have some pimples, which does not shave yet, and that have the glasses, they still do not know how much venom the first can be reserved for them and not only, also their peers. Ugly, stupid, to be avoided, as they are labeled here. Just because I'm still a bit 'immature does not mean that they can one day become more beautiful than the first, not only physically but in all, more beautiful, better educated, the real winners.
averagesI was one of those poor, stupid, naive, and I say first - but not in the pejorative sense - and I know how much we suffer, when you ridicule because you are ugly, because you're down, because your metabolism does not allow you to be a silhouette. I mean, did nothing but tell me, take me to write the diary, that I was ugly and I believed it. I saw ugly. At thirteen, I hated myself, hated my picture, I feel insane, and even lose weight a little to please a guy who saw the sea, was not served to change things, to feel prettier, out of the tunnel. Then over time, things changed a little at a Once I began to accept me, to look at the mirror to see a new Chiara, Chiara a beautiful and liked it. Today I realize that it is only beautiful when you like yourself, when you learn to accept when our body is one with our mind, when our body is no longer a bargaining chip to be accepted by society. A beautiful body to be accepted by society, for respect, dignity? And 'this is our bargaining chip? No, not the way it should be but that's how things go today.
Today I can say with certainty that the beauty wherever you go is a canon, a yardstick against which you take the measures, but non è l’abito a fare il monaco. Mi sono resa conto che la bellezza non serve a niente, almeno non serve per vivere. Si può avere una taglia, anche dieci in meno, un seno più grande, due labbra più carnose, ma se nel cervello non c’è niente, a che serve? Una volta, mentre attraversavo il centro a piedi, ho sentito dire da una vecchia “oggi i giovani hanno tutti la testa vuota, più vanno avanti e più peggiorano” e credo che sia vero, perchè oggi ci si ferma solo davanti alle apparenze, solo davanti ad una maschera fatta di mille sostanze chimiche che servono solo a avvizzire ancora di più la pelle. Si vuole fermare il tempo, si cercano gli antidoti, ma non si è ancora trovato l’antidoto a quell’evento che pone fine anche alla bellezza che dura novant’anni, perchè trasforma il nostro volto in una maschera sempre più attaccata alle ossa fino a lasciare solo quelle: la morte. Abbiamo così paura della morte oggi, che vogliamo essere giovani a tutti i costi, poichè invecchiare, come disse anche Wotton a Dorian Gray, è sinonimo di morire e quando moriamo di noi restano le foto o i ritratti, che sono i soli a restare giovani, ad avere mille età, sono le fotografie a ricordare i momenti non tornano, irripetibili. Sembra che non si accetti più l’idea che è meglio vivere un’unica, lunga e semplice esistenza piuttosto che una breve che viene sprecata alla ricerca di un assoluto che non esiste. 
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