Probably this is a starting point for something i do feel really close to my soul. The epic life of the middle class,whose i belong to,with some sort of decadency.
these houses start to get old.
I can feel the struggling of millions of people that struggle for more. I remember my father and the people around us that worked all year long to buy a new stuff and that keep changing car once every couple of years. It's nothing revolutionary,i know.But i personally feel some kind of pain,a pain i don't feel for any american dream. I feel some sort of sweet pity for this class of pople who are practically forced to. It's a silent life,even though these people do try to scream in order to be visible.
there's nothing classy about it,nothing cheap and chic in these memories.
this is my girlfriend and i can see my mother standing in the same position.
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