I'd strongly closed my room after the last events. A bull was fiercely looked at me two hours before near that nice row where people rarely arrived.
Why I'd arrived there?; oh man, you might understand my mind full of informations. A talkative person sold me a Van Gogh's picture (he'd painted the last month), a sheep offered me white cheese only with her control, a bush only shone burgnings forests, megaphones thundered the end of the World and their inflatables, horns marked rhythms. I didn't wait a bull, but I immediately tryed to explain my situation.
He stopped me and asked me, do you know my angry humor? I was white but you've always seen me black; I was happy when I was white.
What was your problem?. I asked him
A day, the bull said, I decide to interrogate about dark questions: bankers and their bad actions that everybody should pay while their could have a good position; I also argued about other decisions difficult to understand.
You migh think that my concern for the society would be supported?
No, really no, they send to me fines with poor ink; some brainless people full my body of these papers.
I only wanted to know why I was always fought bull.
Then, I took a wise decision. I invited the bull to my house to read the next book. Finally, everyone must take its own path
A read book has writers
PAH Guadalajara and people who ask about these unjust situations will be persecuted but some wonderful and bright halls are full of shits
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