Bionicle Building Instructions

Lost My shelter

My shelter, I have many, many places where I feel safe, really safe, not that the courage up and go with my head high, and security that gives you the protection of another, is a quiet and safe to breathe deeply without fear of any unusual incident that was mild. This shelter is my room is a small rectangular spot illuminated by the rare golden sun with red flashing the small window allows to pass, the red writing that is more beautiful than seen, because as I read an account of a anyone like me ... \u0026lt;\u0026lt;The words are always better than the colors, because when someone types in red, you imagine the best red ever seen. Because if someone paints something red, not red sublime and hurt you expect it will be a red cup of coffee, but not a drop of blood red, and if a drop of blood red, blood is never black and thick enough. This happens, for sure, because good red drops of blood are black.>> For this once, I wrote only "Green".

My shelter seemingly peaceful, actually it is a vital place, ruled by the bed of the magic powder is a daily tour started at different times with sad tales of heartbreak, death, disappointment. Written postcards never sent or received never answered letters, pictures from 0 to 100 years full of smiles and curious gaps broken. He survives a world of fantasy that began with "Once upon a time ...", a world of witches hanging from the wall gossip, fairy sweetened that mediate between them, lucky elephants toasted by the dull glow of the suns without glare, a darker location, where warriors fight to protect the magic there formed.

The protagonists of this fantasy world that only I know that in my shelter living are those Elves, who do not see, but I know they are, those who take the sun every morning in my window while eating the jelly beans that steal the my sister's room, and at night roost in our ears to tell stories, action times or terror rebel without meaning or outcome, stories that we call dreams, those "dreams" that sometimes we stand relaxed and others too tense Freud both those related to sex. They are the ones that we pricked to draw blood, but as though they are wicked good, we smeared a liquid that makes chopping and devilish, but without being able to cure arrascar. They are the ones that shut off the alarm clock that we missed not having heard the evening rise. Or those who provide loving clumsiness a little salt to unscrew the cap. But his favorite hobby is that we all played as children, "the hiding", but in this case the hiding of stuff ... laughing and concealing its diminutive size while we desperately seek, but I repeat, as they are of good heart, while the happy place again and forgetting to ask how we find there have arrived.

Elves are those who cry when they see your tears spilling down her cheeks, comfort you in their own way, for example, inviting Mr Grillo come not to sing \u0026lt;\u0026lt;cri,cri,cri>> and nobody says he repeats. It is they who know all your secrets and give you energy to fight, they are, that despite the wicked are virtuous, so is my shelter because although restless and fun, is both a pure and peaceful.