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a fool of as a short text

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Well, a mega apology. Yesterday I was busy with school issues (stupid page of the unam ¬ ¬) and I happened to say this:

Happy Birthday
rebeka_black
Well girl, well not give you (stink at that) so you tell me how you want to write, and I'll have (commissioned between now and the Slashers Mexico to give me whipping up I finish it)

Kisses ^ - ^

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Loredi, as everyone knows, is the beginning of all evils. Maybe it is partly my fault, but anyway the past past.

I found this video and consequently Lore convinced me to write something. One can not say no to the mother XD
Helo here

Hope

you ever repent?

Today I remembered you. Lost in my thoughts, my hip pain while walking and stiffness in the knees, greatly surprised me the ball, emerging from behind some bushes, a term between my feet, despite dazzling red the fog and stands between me and the world. A simple ball, worn and a bit disjointed, but red. Red as your lips, red impossible that he could make me forget my mother, long dead, my father, that drunk ever cared about me. Red and every moment I spent with you, when that old closet could be who We will, go anywhere we liked.

I never told you how much it meant to me, right? Maybe you knew I always assumed that our fingers were intertwined everything I needed to give to understand that if someday you were going, I could not stand. were my chance to be rebellious, were what I never dared to tell my father. Such was the fear of him.

Until I opened the closet and you were not. And all I could think as I turned around to see my father was in the red ball in the fucking ball that was lost yesterday across the hedge. The bloody red blood all over my clothes, all my memories.

you never saw her again. I could not, not by fear but out of shame. Today I had a red ball in my hands, and unlike many years ago, the ball returned to its owner: a little boy named Hope, so like you. I saw our future, or what might be, two men against the world, joined by two intertwined fingers and hope.

Today with a little hope, I dare to send it in a red envelope. Because maybe we can even build a small future.

Together.

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Look what I found: O

First of all, I ask a moment of silence for Pope Voldy. May he rest in all its evil tuberculosis.

On another note, yesterday I was looking for something (I forget which) when I found a book called "They also count." Basically it is made with children in primary texts and unfortunately mine is also included. As a person
which does not like to have evidence of wrong or did something wrong, it is likely to destroy it someday. So I'll post better not to fall into oblivion.

clarify: I wrote when I was about 11 years. I hope I have improved.

CHILD

Burton was once a mocking child, nobody wanted to be with him because all critical, they just announced it was a defect at all, no knew because one day he told his sincere friend that he believed he it was perfect so critical of others, the friend who had been a situation he said, "I think nobody is perfect, I once believed that I was perfect, but no yes, we all have faults too many had to go through that test, "the child also was presumed to be mocking realized his faults but he told his friend. When he got home he began to meditate, he realized what had happened and from that day ceased to be conceited, but it does not end here ese mismo niño creció conforme lo hizo, fue aprendiendo cosas y lo hizo bien, Se caso y tubo un hijo que fue igual al, no solo en lo físico, sino también en el carácter, fue presumido y burlon, el papa que se enteró de eso le contó su niñez y como igual a el, el hijo que era inteligente, le siguió en su camino y fue igual a él. 
FIN

Raro, no? o.O