And you think it is easy to be sixteen? No I say, have you ever faced the problem of having sixteen years now? And do not tell me that sixteen years I've had it too. It was a different world. Very simple. Mica had to fight with the technology, vol. At best, the hunger, like the third world, then I know that is a lie told to scare us and that, mica and fall for us. He had not even the phone. How do I know? Type you have with your time so stressed that I seem to us past another life. It is not mine. Mine is here. But as you understand it or not is hard to stay on top of the wave? Because if you're not there, you're nobody. And is not nobody here who is already dead. Better than it was even physically. Why are you in the tunnel. And you suffer. And if you do not suffer enough to make you think about the other suffer. But whether or not you understand how much care we put in to show us? That there is a limit each time: flashy, yes, but not a bitch. Why then the boys did not ask you that. Already leeches do not like thinking about other things, that if you hear them talk about the Simpsons seem to porno. Those who see movies on the internet that even dump them handfuls of chocolates and then you had them raccontanto that there is more than hear them vomiting. And if it seems it to him by not waiting, then there is more rest. It 's all a question of image. I understand that you do not think of anything else. And do not say that I have been busy. Not so, however: having sex in bathrooms or in the car or behind home, but hidden so no one sees you. What then if I see my mother, who cares, what could he mean? What she does in the end? As for excesses that I can hardly keep up! And you were not meant to compete with the mica you your mothers in those notorious seventies so we drove them come with Fonzi and the Beatles and other devilry which I do not remember anymore. I was not interested and I removed. As I usually do. I do not want a landfill in mind: what is not needed immediately is thrown away. So there's more space to think about how to have fun. Eh, you had to defend yourself from your parent as you touch it to me? That's when I force you to go shopping with her I see the men, everyone, even children, those who would do us the eye on and a little 'porn, watching her instead of me and her necklines and scosciature as if the world revolved around a walkway and the sidewalk was. What do I think he wants to destroy, to annihilate, to humble guy who only look at her and not me, who are still a sketch. And I, I made him on the other hand, that the lover that buzzes around, and she wallows even if it is almost closer to me than to her age, she went there I mica. Perhaps she, too, chemmifrega. But I as well. The night she gets her wait. And he did not notice anything. And I'm proud because this time I won. E mica I am sorry you know? What? To do what everyone does? What they are asking everyone? So all things pass, and even an hour goes by. Live the present. There. Everyone says so. Even the famous ones I see on TV and that makes me mad because I want to become so. And do not fatigue. What my mother does not do the hard work. My father has uprooted. That's when he left has bitten to the bone. Gnawed. Gnawed. And now we are rich. He is rich, too. While it lasts. She always says. But I do not want to struggle. You do not need. Does not do anyone. At school? Do not make me laugh! That there is always a way to copy, cheat, go. And you need to study? For the nerds? Like nerds and virgins, who are holed up in their culture and wither, in piles and broken them locked up because no one row, only one of them, that makes people laugh and do not oppress them even more because there is no taste, just when you're a bit 'down and you do not like either of nothing, then a joke, a couple of slaps, who never refuse, and you pull up immediately. That should not be unpacked or type thugs to do these things here. What are all the losers and if the waiting, you smile and if the waiting is part of the game, the hapless us their beautiful. The ones who like them, their blinds. And without crossing the line and finish in the bullies, those who do not like anyone, and are weak: they pretend to break the bank, but are corroded inside. You understand. They attack just because they can not look in the mirror. And they are so rough, dirty, shawls. We are neat and scianti: elegant. Beautiful faces, my grandmother would say soap and water. And I enjoy it because when he does not know, and could never know. Because as you watch her burn. And I do not want that fire.
But then I find this face malmostosa him always, even inside, as if I looked in a mirror inside, they tell me that when I get angry because they understand and do not want you to understand. And a little 'is merlin, is superior, but then end up too tell you that. Smile. And why? And who tells you it is an adult that I do not give a damn, while my ride do not you even say, you push the edges and then you eject, because the harsh lights, yes, but never sad. It 's a matter of image. What we always want to have fun. What else are we doing? That everything passes, but something remains, and it is always the less beautiful, more acidic, which scratches. And I fear that there is not enough makeup to cover it, because it is not around the eyes, but inside. And do a little 'trendy is frowning, but I have the impression that it is a type face that you put up for kennels or get noticed, but why do not you you can remove that which has the roots in, deep. Because when I look at the sea, there is the desire of sailing that I am, but that of drowning. And this is not nice. And in the evening. Like when I lose those minutes at the window to smoke to not soak the room, that I cheat too, but she hates that smell reminds her itch because my father is not the sky I see, nor the color, but a blanket stretched such as those that cover the dead from CSI autopsy. And I do not know why, but I do not like. And I can not look beyond tomorrow, and already I can hardly do not even know why I should do it. But a little 'hurt me.
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