I know what many might reproach to hear or read that statement but I do not want to correct. Do not miss it. I miss me when I was in college.
That feeling that whatever he did, no matter, he did not, everything was so small. I knew I could be wrong as often as you want and have time to correct, I always thought that when I was sad I could spend hours in the library crying, smelling the scent, between books and when night came, I would argue exhausting work at home no I ask for red eyes feet would think that would be both read and nobody would say anything.
I would lock myself in my room, they'd dry my tears would burn a CD especially for those days and I would dance.
And all would end then. The school the next day, carousing in cars in the parking lot of school meals without that mal-paso me just eating all bran bars and a half-liter water.
Cigars on and off at the same time.
And now it seems that one sentence matter and implodes in everything I do in my work, my life. One
absence seems I've been ignoring the impact as twenty years.
And yes, strange ... I miss that I used to think it was more me and less what everyone expected it to be.
Or perhaps the reverse.
The thing is that I can not find the difference.
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