When I was little, my father wanted to kill myself, he came off the car to fetch his wallet and forgot about me and the hand brake; result: the car walked for three streets with me inside, SCREAMING. My first love was an imaginary friend and our first kiss was in the mirror. I wanted to play drums, but my coordination collaborate declined, so I'm thinking of trying the saxophone (I still think I me lack this ability). One day I hit my head on the wall, I came to believe that I acquired own light and now I think I'm a star. With at age 11 I met the rock, it was love at first sight, and today we are still together, although the use of drugs make blackouts in his memory. I have a strange relationship with the number eight, he loves me and me chase, the problem is the reciprocity. I'm bipolar, although I disguise well (or not).