Yesterday I turned 34 years old. On a planet that is billions of years old, on a continent that has at least five hundred and some years to be included in the official mapística, in a country that is trying to celebrate all dazed discientos years of independence "?, in a sufficient state archaeologists and anthropologists agree that it is three thousand years inhabited by peoples with distinct identity, in a municipality designated as such only thirty years after the slaughter of Tlatelolco (initial, in 1521), this figure's birthday ends up being negligible.
mean anything to me, means something to your life and who shares his space with me. Probably for those who sent me messages and talked on the phone.
But in any case, the date (invented by many factors), it makes me reflect on the recent obstacles I've encountered Now that I'm processing my passport to get out of Poland.
And if a treintaytantos else in the world, it became a subject with the potential exacerbated while limited by the age factor.
But even so, time is comprehensive and I still predicts number of projects to land before the body factor begins to collect its dues to my youthful excesses.
Cheers
