I was born the day he had I was born. As a grain of sand in the desert, I do not mean anything. And if I disappear, it will not have. the small grain is gone, can he enter into the eye of someone to make him cry.
This life is poorly written. I'll delete and start over. It always shows when gum, but for those who do not know, it can be beautiful.
I will be born at another time, other parents in another country. I will love other people, I'll create another universe, a world that will go to me.
magic words ... I can do it!
That I am a born April 14, 2296 at 10:22 p.m. in Kuala Lampour. My mother is thrilled, I am the fourth in a big family and only daughter. My father, a wealthy importer schiibrines (new fuel collected on Saturn), is pleased to have a daughter.
I grew up in the tenderness and love. My parents, although often absent, are close and talk to me. They love me, and I think four of us, it's me they prefer. This preference, if it is alleged against them is tiny, but I feel it and it pleases me.
I go to school with my father, my teachers are amazing, especially that of atomic science. He is also charming and decorates my dreams of a teenager. Someday I'll tell him that I like. I reply that I am a sweet to crunch and we'll go hand in hand we set up in his harem. But we're not there yet.
Our servants, the French very stupid, imported a few years ago amuse me more than anything. The only problem is that we can no longer reproduce them in a hundred years and that they will be endangered. My father says it parcequ'en ancient times, they too have abused their manhood and that just punishment to their reproductive organs were atrophied. We were offered a lot to naturalize in the state, but my parents are sensitive, have refused to excuse their good service. They are pretty funny to see them. Sometimes I sit in the cafeteria and I watch them live. They keep contradicting himself. Women are very tricky, men are having systematically. They are charming but a bit stupid, they sometimes try to talk to their partner, but after my father and it is their custom, they do not listen jamais.Alors, they revolt and it usually ends up fights that my father must calm our Bangala (prairie dogs from Asia).
They are very brave, and sometimes spend days and nights in cultured Glaceries (glass powder) to pick the flowers and reduce them by firing at 12000 °. they smoke and drink heavily. Thus we pay: alcohol and cigarettes. They want nothing else. at times, Tuesday (day off), they play cards all night. I do not understand their game because they do not want me to explain. My father forbade me to approach them, he fears could lead to reminiscences of uncontrollable sexual urges. But I have no fear. The men are rascals, they like women for their bodies not their heads. When they talk, they talk too much, it bothers them and that's why they do not respond. Besides, I do not think they can not answer communication beyond them. While they are struggling in lewd gestures, gesticulate, growling and tap the chest.
Fortunately we have collected. They roamed the country in search of food as the first millennium. All they had built was obliterate an invasion of Africa. Like locusts, they were all devastated.
Our men fled into the forest, my father had only to catch them in nets and brought home ...
Continued ... it was later
0 comments:
Post a Comment