I remember that long ago, people came to their homes in the evenings, mornings or afternoons, sincerely at the time it was, and sat in front of the pc to write his most abstract thoughts in your journal or other media I, for better or for worse, not knowledge. All your circle of friends, was interested and kept the look, they said it read, which was very interesting what was written, and go to bad luck what happened to you, kid. Were answered, a couple of text messages until someone finished the chain (either never got or will get, understand how close these things, you simply disappear, or by a rule that nobody knows after two more messages left) , and you can write another entry, to a curiosity orsimply retelling what is considered infrequent in flat journalero life.
After a few years, without any kind of explanations (rather than the scientific and duties) grew and adults can call us, then we convert the journal strictly a memory of what lurked an era of bad manners in our heads. Smile with those memories that we had so fondly, because we thought that someone cared, but said they were to let off steam.
Somehow, without knowing certainly the answer, as I do not know nearly all the questions I usually ask, and when it or not I search in google or repronto doctor and have no answers, because I stop thinking at the time it leavesand convert the individual dual.
