Back in the city in the sky pink, I am another person.
As if not being part of anything.
As if all these things had never been mine.
This paper, of Snoopy, I got for my birthday's when I was about eight years. That drawing
so ugly I did not.
I would not put those clothes, I had those eyebrows, I fell in love with an eccentric artist or a complete stranger in a summer camp.
Actually, I never fell in love with anyone.
never went to college, I never knew math problems.
PsupuestÃsimo or never got drunk to thirteen degrees below zero, and let me not be humiliated by a bunch of brainless.
I spent nothing that really happened, and do not remember.
I was never punk, and I got high, got into pogo sticks or monstrous, is not no fool I threw the neck, not one.
My adolescence was exemplary.
No depression, no hard time. Never went back to my house crying, alone, never made me endless path.
I did not seek affection, touching the lips danger. I was not alone, nor out of place.
How lucky I was ...
For all that did not happen.
Lucky.
...
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