In these days of rain, the smell of wet earth reminded me of those days when I studied in high school. The latter, another scent I associated it was a mixture of sweat musky with friction draft on notebook paper and pencils, after removing tip.
in the classroom was a party when the teacher did not arrive at 15 minutes past the hour. The agony came on 14 minutes when we had every second like New Year bells. When the cannon blew up, the race for the adventure began. A run ... backpack on his shoulder, adrenalin overflowing, running over anyone who traverse. It was a prank anything, ride a gang, getting into the park through a hole in the fence and not through the front door, order and pay tequeños 20 16, buy raspaos of tail and pour the condensed milk, outwit the school janitor , around the center of the city without means in the pocket, take the girlfriend to lie in any tree and carve a heart with your name and hers, do corny!.
We were launching from the tours most urban to the most rugged journeys, provided the sponsor of the trips I was the "everlasting Motolite." Once I remember saying: "Tomorrow is not the profession of accounting, so bring your shorts and bathing suits are not going to the little beach. "autistic which all agreed. For there were no beach nearby, but a private resort called San Pedrito" located behind a mountain. I took my group into several carts for since arriving, not knowing where he went, we started walk, walk and walk, we lost, we backed off, and finally found the sea. It was an abandoned, dead animals had been sunk ships ... A nightmarish landscape, seemed the end of "Planet of the Apes", what was missing was the Statue of Liberty buried in the sand. I pushed with a stick to a nasty bug sailor, who bounced a purple, viscous fluid, so the girls and shouted, then threw me to the beach and stuck in a hedgehog fell ... there began to mourn and loaded my friends took me to hospital where my dear mother was waiting with her screams posing as the most fatal embarrassment of my hapless teens. There he finished the trip to the beach, but still not stopped being the most popular girl in school.
Growing up, sick of pseudo vanity without foundation ... I created a cult which could only be modern people, good looking and well dressed, I made up a few pints it seemed a safe, had many fans, though. We imposed fashion socks and pants using brincacharcos, with the intention of showing the ankle, or wear a white shoe and one black, haha. How very smugly balurda and irreverent, sometimes unintentionally seemed a sort of Punky Brewster Creole.
Almost everything I liked, I think what bothered me most was to be the blessed Weekday , said of a kind of wizard (jalabolas) to report all irregularities should (have straw) for teachers to look good to them (bribery) . Save folder, clear the slate, have on hand chalk or marker. I hope that figure no longer exists.
In high school I had a friend who spoke to me very close to the ear, leaving traces of saliva from his breath on my eardrum hormonal morbid enough to receive electrical shock that ends in the crotch and spontaneously erect a tent that would not let me get out of the ordinary desk. After I left excited, it would do the same to others, she had a burning hot and alebrestador, I guess that smelled of ovulation. Now that I analyze it I believe that very purpose, I was hot and humid these kisses teenager looking fire, but before Gafo I was so satisfied with an appointment with Raspayuqueo when the shower. He had another partner today that if there was a worthy representative of the Emo, his hair completely covering his face beaten, a kind of uncle thing with a look of hatred, barely spoke, he walked with a walkman attached to auditory nerve, repudiated vehemently teachers, always smelled like smoke. The chick every day came with a band supposedly to cover her veins cut almost another day because it came with a collar jacket was launched in the building's roof, took a pot of pills, swallowed champion, and the total Manimal was chama embodied in a cat for those 7 life overtook him to change his bipolar, compulsive, depressive, dark humanity. To everyone's surprise, today is a real fine lady, who knows it will take in the semi coconut upset?. I still enjoy toxic liquids?. Who knows? God what language I have. He also had a buddy
Italian, who was king of the violin, podridísimo the bug. Fetid was little, but it was nice. And I sat in front of him because I played in the list. On his birthday we are giving you (hidden in her purse) a ball MUN, lemon, baking soda and toothpaste. The stench of pacus (legs and armpits cu ..) was his most faithful companion. Putrid and polluted as himself, the chemise was stained ocher yellow under the arms. Until one day we went together to the cafeteria and that smell hit me ... just sniffed around my armpits, said: "He who walks with a limp, lame," well what my mother says. What do I do with this rolo e 'violin?. Within minutes ... Ya. Then I took one of my creative ideas invented an aunt died in order to run a drama school without anybody noticing. When I talked to the teacher, she asked the students stood up to offer condolences. That's when everyone realized that he had a funeral under my arms and fell slightly as accomplished my popularity.
be popular (for good or evil) is a cross that has accompanied me since very young, those responsible for this were my parents as I got into dancing, poem and song had a vacancy, but it reached its peak in high school. I had to sing a song in English with closed eyes before the whole room. And all I remember is saying, "All just call, you say I Love" and there I was stuck more than 6 minutes, I forgot the lyrics. I had to give a speech Bolivarian society that no one heard because the microphone never caught. I got a liqui-liqui tight white below with black interior, of course, everyone looked down while dancing joropo and broke my pants ... Anyway, I had to do everything to earn the privilege of having many friends and be a reference by all. Almost always the crazy, clowns, scholar, inventor, creative, organizer, actor, singer, presenter, politician and mediator in conflicts. I had to do anything to be accepted at a stage where I felt the most insignificant person in this world. I had to fend of tricks for a little brightness in the dull adolescence that I lived, if not for the memories from high school, he would ask the master of life shading this period, double-click and delete him forever. The divorce of my parents could have been a trigger for drug addict, criminal, antisocial, misfit or a gray character, but not, I invented a thousand and one things to fill that void with imitating the best personalities outside the mine, with self-esteem workshops, but mostly with faith. What seemed like a period of deprivation and sadness became a magical world full of mischief they have given me the vitality to face this world where we have to tread stronger every morning. If I had not had friends who make fun depressive perhaps the bomber would I be if I had not been leader of the drive would not know my profession, much less could be a teacher. I'm born public relations, thank God I exercise my profession because there is always an act or event I come and say hello to all the attendees, is a stigma that I have from those days of puberty. If I had been so many hot flashes would not be so predictable and organized as I am. No one leaves me no saliva in his ear today I find it very exciting. More never wore white pants with black interior and walk away from people with smell, that sort of thing at my age do not endure. Every time I pass by the Playa San Pedrito, I laugh and narrate the blessed journey lecos frustrated and my mother as I drew the blessed foot urchin, every time I see a sell raspao not I stop biting my tail and serve one of condensed milk to my liking. I think even though years have passed, the concerns and tasks inherent in the maturity of my lifestyle and seriously, I can not be rid of the crazy teen and the everlasting Motolite that seeks to make every second an adventure. The same as from time to time with nostalgia, recalling the smell of youth.
"From my follies of youth that gives me most pain is not having committed them, but not being able to commit."
Pierre Benoit (1886-1962) French novelist.
in the classroom was a party when the teacher did not arrive at 15 minutes past the hour. The agony came on 14 minutes when we had every second like New Year bells. When the cannon blew up, the race for the adventure began. A run ... backpack on his shoulder, adrenalin overflowing, running over anyone who traverse. It was a prank anything, ride a gang, getting into the park through a hole in the fence and not through the front door, order and pay tequeños 20 16, buy raspaos of tail and pour the condensed milk, outwit the school janitor , around the center of the city without means in the pocket, take the girlfriend to lie in any tree and carve a heart with your name and hers, do corny!.
We were launching from the tours most urban to the most rugged journeys, provided the sponsor of the trips I was the "everlasting Motolite." Once I remember saying: "Tomorrow is not the profession of accounting, so bring your shorts and bathing suits are not going to the little beach. "autistic which all agreed. For there were no beach nearby, but a private resort called San Pedrito" located behind a mountain. I took my group into several carts for since arriving, not knowing where he went, we started walk, walk and walk, we lost, we backed off, and finally found the sea. It was an abandoned, dead animals had been sunk ships ... A nightmarish landscape, seemed the end of "Planet of the Apes", what was missing was the Statue of Liberty buried in the sand. I pushed with a stick to a nasty bug sailor, who bounced a purple, viscous fluid, so the girls and shouted, then threw me to the beach and stuck in a hedgehog fell ... there began to mourn and loaded my friends took me to hospital where my dear mother was waiting with her screams posing as the most fatal embarrassment of my hapless teens. There he finished the trip to the beach, but still not stopped being the most popular girl in school.
Growing up, sick of pseudo vanity without foundation ... I created a cult which could only be modern people, good looking and well dressed, I made up a few pints it seemed a safe, had many fans, though. We imposed fashion socks and pants using brincacharcos, with the intention of showing the ankle, or wear a white shoe and one black, haha. How very smugly balurda and irreverent, sometimes unintentionally seemed a sort of Punky Brewster Creole.
Almost everything I liked, I think what bothered me most was to be the blessed Weekday , said of a kind of wizard (jalabolas) to report all irregularities should (have straw) for teachers to look good to them (bribery) . Save folder, clear the slate, have on hand chalk or marker. I hope that figure no longer exists.
In high school I had a friend who spoke to me very close to the ear, leaving traces of saliva from his breath on my eardrum hormonal morbid enough to receive electrical shock that ends in the crotch and spontaneously erect a tent that would not let me get out of the ordinary desk. After I left excited, it would do the same to others, she had a burning hot and alebrestador, I guess that smelled of ovulation. Now that I analyze it I believe that very purpose, I was hot and humid these kisses teenager looking fire, but before Gafo I was so satisfied with an appointment with Raspayuqueo when the shower. He had another partner today that if there was a worthy representative of the Emo, his hair completely covering his face beaten, a kind of uncle thing with a look of hatred, barely spoke, he walked with a walkman attached to auditory nerve, repudiated vehemently teachers, always smelled like smoke. The chick every day came with a band supposedly to cover her veins cut almost another day because it came with a collar jacket was launched in the building's roof, took a pot of pills, swallowed champion, and the total Manimal was chama embodied in a cat for those 7 life overtook him to change his bipolar, compulsive, depressive, dark humanity. To everyone's surprise, today is a real fine lady, who knows it will take in the semi coconut upset?. I still enjoy toxic liquids?. Who knows? God what language I have. He also had a buddy
Italian, who was king of the violin, podridísimo the bug. Fetid was little, but it was nice. And I sat in front of him because I played in the list. On his birthday we are giving you (hidden in her purse) a ball MUN, lemon, baking soda and toothpaste. The stench of pacus (legs and armpits cu ..) was his most faithful companion. Putrid and polluted as himself, the chemise was stained ocher yellow under the arms. Until one day we went together to the cafeteria and that smell hit me ... just sniffed around my armpits, said: "He who walks with a limp, lame," well what my mother says. What do I do with this rolo e 'violin?. Within minutes ... Ya. Then I took one of my creative ideas invented an aunt died in order to run a drama school without anybody noticing. When I talked to the teacher, she asked the students stood up to offer condolences. That's when everyone realized that he had a funeral under my arms and fell slightly as accomplished my popularity.
be popular (for good or evil) is a cross that has accompanied me since very young, those responsible for this were my parents as I got into dancing, poem and song had a vacancy, but it reached its peak in high school. I had to sing a song in English with closed eyes before the whole room. And all I remember is saying, "All just call, you say I Love" and there I was stuck more than 6 minutes, I forgot the lyrics. I had to give a speech Bolivarian society that no one heard because the microphone never caught. I got a liqui-liqui tight white below with black interior, of course, everyone looked down while dancing joropo and broke my pants ... Anyway, I had to do everything to earn the privilege of having many friends and be a reference by all. Almost always the crazy, clowns, scholar, inventor, creative, organizer, actor, singer, presenter, politician and mediator in conflicts. I had to do anything to be accepted at a stage where I felt the most insignificant person in this world. I had to fend of tricks for a little brightness in the dull adolescence that I lived, if not for the memories from high school, he would ask the master of life shading this period, double-click and delete him forever. The divorce of my parents could have been a trigger for drug addict, criminal, antisocial, misfit or a gray character, but not, I invented a thousand and one things to fill that void with imitating the best personalities outside the mine, with self-esteem workshops, but mostly with faith. What seemed like a period of deprivation and sadness became a magical world full of mischief they have given me the vitality to face this world where we have to tread stronger every morning. If I had not had friends who make fun depressive perhaps the bomber would I be if I had not been leader of the drive would not know my profession, much less could be a teacher. I'm born public relations, thank God I exercise my profession because there is always an act or event I come and say hello to all the attendees, is a stigma that I have from those days of puberty. If I had been so many hot flashes would not be so predictable and organized as I am. No one leaves me no saliva in his ear today I find it very exciting. More never wore white pants with black interior and walk away from people with smell, that sort of thing at my age do not endure. Every time I pass by the Playa San Pedrito, I laugh and narrate the blessed journey lecos frustrated and my mother as I drew the blessed foot urchin, every time I see a sell raspao not I stop biting my tail and serve one of condensed milk to my liking. I think even though years have passed, the concerns and tasks inherent in the maturity of my lifestyle and seriously, I can not be rid of the crazy teen and the everlasting Motolite that seeks to make every second an adventure. The same as from time to time with nostalgia, recalling the smell of youth.
"From my follies of youth that gives me most pain is not having committed them, but not being able to commit."
Pierre Benoit (1886-1962) French novelist.
Photo: Eduardo Sanchez.
