Sometimes I wonder how I managed to make me throughout my life with so many enemies. The odd thing is that many of them, despite what my conscience dictates (or precisely because of that), I have gained by me do right. I am not referring to enemies more or less trivial, furtive or gaseous chamber rivals or neighbors with ornery face I speak of undesirable called me home early, I suspect packages sent to work or they threatened to break my legs . People in a town so small, sometimes I come across the street from a rainbow of color in a cold soup, look at me with a glazed look of hatred. Yes I admit that I have looked well to other human beings, especially when they drive or smile smugly affluent restaurant. I've even thought about making a knife wielding night expeditions tortoiseshell handle. But I always thought that phrase to drop Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven ("kill a man is very hard, stripped of everything that is ... and everything that could become") and just to retire to the cave. I do not know, maybe my worst enemy is within me, that guy who tries to walk the world pushing between his lips a breath of honesty. What bullshit. Maybe that's why I like the soft drink with a bitter background ... and the ice floating in it with a bullet.
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