1- Before shaving my head

All my knowledge came from feeling.

"Day in, day out. I wanted milk." A woman in red with giraffe stripes pointing at a Russian.

Another morning and I was there in class pretending to pay attention. I didn't know whether to keep looking down to avoid her calling me or whether to look at the woman to catch someone who wasn't paying attention.

I even liked Russian songs, at least the American covers. Like Those Were The Days, My Friends. Not only this one, but all the songs easily managed to make me reach another level of existence that I couldn't explain. This one specifically starts with a very medieval tone that creates the atmosphere and begins:

"Once upon a time there was a tavern. Where we toasted once or twice. Remember how we laughed through the hours. And we dreamed of all the great things we would do. Those were the days my friend. We thought they would never end. We would dance forever and another day . We would live the life we chose. We would fight and never lose. Because we were young and sure it would be our way." Not to be arrogant, but anyone who doesn't at least like this beauty is wrong.

I started to smile silly thinking about the song, I didn't even have the correct page of the book open on my desk. "Times are 'liquid' because everything changes so quickly. Nothing is made to last, to be 'solid', "The liquid modernity in which we live brings with it a mysterious fragility of human bonds – a liquid love". I thought to myself quickly about that little snippet, but my eyes were burning from the lack of sleep that last night, so I didn't care. Plus I'm wearing my old hoodie and I'm really hot. I felt the fingers behind me running through and pushing each strand of straight black hair on my head, it was her again, I didn't really like this kind of affection, but I accepted it willingly, she even threw me back, thus making it easier. use of your cloud-like, tanned hands. I don't know if that affection is pity or a misunderstanding, I started to think more about it, because that same night before we were in those hard and ugly chairs, confined in this block they call a classroom, we were talking, looking at the clear sky and starry-eyed with my intention of taking his cigarette and I actually took his cigarette stained with almost non-existent lipstick, I looked at the bottom of it, at the I don't know how many poisons there were there. Does anyone care? The color, the red and the gray crossed, in my imagination created as if the gray was a tomb of several bodies and the red, the fire disappearing, so their bodies were disappearing with each drink of it that now I wanted to put under my eye , but I decided to just rub it on my hand. Right in the place my teacher would call a tendon, near the big toe of my hand. She cared about me and looked like she cared, even though my attitude had nothing to do with her, 'are you crazy?', 'no, I'm well aware of everything'. I hope she didn't misunderstand something like ulterior motives, as I wanted nothing more than just a conversation looking at the sky.

Before leaving my chair, although I didn't like it, it was peaceful, until a voice from behind ran into my ears in a high-pitched way:

— I almost didn't finish...

—I thought it was easy, like I finished it in 30 minutes.

—Huh...did you study?

-No.

— So how is it easy?

-Whatnot.

— You can't get a higher grade than me. I studied...

—Stop being childish.

— I'm just saying...

— OK, OK, I understand.

Dani was annoying but bearable. It was a winter morning with cloudy skies in the region, although it was warm. I lived and grew up in a busy and irritating city that, in a way, stinks of a car engine. At that time I was 15 years old, I grew up with my half brothers, in fact, they are cousins, but I was born in the same month as them, so we spent our entire childhood together, we studied at the same school. Sometimes I thought I was in hell and I hadn't touched it yet, because that place was shit, all the students were rebels without a cause, most of them were abandoned by their parents, they used drugs to look like they were stupid and they disrespected their teachers. Broken glass, the walls of the cafeteria were all painted with incomprehensible symbols, the tables had rusty iron and some dogs that entered by accident, so they decided that they would live there, just like that.

It was 10:30 am, eating time where I studied, I sat in the corner of the gate eating a sour apple. The government provided fruit for the students, as there was an increase in deaths among diabetic children and adolescents thanks to the processed foods that everyone ate, it's difficult to find non-processed foods nowadays. I preferred a burger, but I tried to have a "healthier" meal every now and then. As I devoured that apple, my attention and thoughts turned to a group near some trees painted partially white. How do they do it? They look so fake, everyone around. I ask myself in my thoughts, I think the fact that they were all together talking, laughing and sharing food bothered me because I couldn't, I felt out of place with those people, in fact with everyone, and also if I were friends with one of them , I feel like I wouldn't give a sincere feeling. I couldn't do it and I wouldn't care. I was the kind of guy that everyone thought was cool, even though no one really knew me, I was the one who talked to everyone to try to be part of a group, but I never really liked anyone there, circles of friends, where every stupid idiot tried show off more than the other. I never liked being the center of attention, I think deep down I was a little jealous, which turned into a little hate for not being able to be like them. The only ones I considered family were my cousins.

I got up from my corner, a little sore in my back, a place where I liked to be alone, just me and no one else. I threw the rotten remains of the apple in the trash without knowing exactly if it was organic or not. I looked at everyone around me, I noticed that they were wearing shorts and short-sleeved shirts, unlike me who was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt and black pants that hid the marks and scars on my skin caused by that man. The teachers and directors of that school had already given up on making students wear clothes with the school emblem, the only one who wore the uniform was my brother, Daniel, affectionately nicknamed Dani by my other brother, who although he was 15 years old, looked like a A 12-year-old girl, she was short, with curly blond hair, blue eyes and a thin voice, and was teased by some students and her own father. He got into fights and wasn't afraid of whoever he was facing, he didn't give up. his head to no one, especially when someone cursed him or the people he liked. Speaking of which, when I was walking around wanting to get another apple, my attention turned, as did the others around, to my brother, because he started shouting at a guy:

— Repeat! - He shouted, taking a step in front of the boy who cursed him, while everyone around him laughed discreetly. —Are you going to look like a Mongolian? — Dani asked, being pushed to the ground soon after. Everyone laughed uncontrollably, a short boy butting heads with a huge face. The two stared at each other, Dani looking angry, however, he looked like a child, so no one took him seriously. On the other hand, a giant ugly guy, his arms were huge, smiled mockingly at him, waiting for him to get up again so he could knock him down. The smile didn't last long, my other brother, who was leaning against the wall smoking marijuana, on those electronic cigarettes he had borrowed, left and went towards the kid, staggering a little since he was drugged, he called him from behind, whispering, When the boy turned around, he punched him with all his strength, making his body almost stumble. The boy, he must not have been able to think straight, when he realized he was lying with his mouth on the ground, bleeding.

He was silent at first, he crouched down, getting close to the kid and said in a whisper:

—Never talk shit about my brother again — Holding his shirt.

 At that moment, some moved away from him and others came closer, these, part of his group, adored Alex, obviously, he was tall, blue eyes and blond hair stuck up, he had muscles and a deep voice, no one messed with him, out of fear. Furthermore, his scar that was between his cheek and nose forming a straight line gave it more authenticity. He said it happened in a fight, where the guy took a knife out of his pocket and hit him in the face, but in fact it was his father who hit him in the head with a beer bottle.

With all that trouble, it was clear that someone was going to tell on the director, I assumed she would get there soon, a woman with round red glasses who spent more time on her cell phone than working, she thought she looked very good with those strange glasses and platinum hair which was clearly to hide the real gray hair, which apparently wasn't very few. Suddenly, a colorful figure passed by me, it was her, who arrived to end the 'party', took Dani, Alex and another bleeding boy to her room. The bell rang soon after, I couldn't see the outcome of the commotion, she told everyone to leave, then they went to their rooms talking about what happened.

I entered my damn room, when I was arriving at the place I always sit, I noticed that next to me they had drawn a big dik on two desks, which connected. I thought it was funny, but for the rest of the class I was sitting in my seat, in the back, copying a text that won't be of any use in my life, I was just being passive. I never tire of saying how much I hated that place, the blackboard was almost falling down, there were no books and desks with pieces missing, everything was decadent. While in other places students had virtual intelligence to help them, in addition to tablets, computers for everyone and technological wallets that replaced books and notebooks, everything was stored in the cloud, they just had to log in and that was it, the world was changing quickly, Virtual intelligence was being put into everything. We have evolved so much, however, we still had old problems.