He noddled twice and than tried to simplify himself out of ambiquity.I asked my little brother whether he saw that.That of catching the spacebirds..A lonely bussiness..
Thats what my father does for living.He catches the spacebirds so they dont harm anyone, noone is willing to have some change nowadays.Everyone is so stucked into their routines, the statu quo.They are ready to pay if someone appears to avoid the thriller the adventure out of their lives.
Since the end of the fourth world war, it is like this.My father is a spacebird catcher, we all depend on his job .So far, i said, cause i found myself a new job on a skater shop.Where you can find dozen of skates, boards, cds, comic books, t-shirts, fancy shoes and all the cool stuff.The kind that will give you a unique kind of disattachment from others, the same kind your employee parents will hate of..
We call some quitters, when they hang out around our shop just to pass their adolesence.But those who keep on visiting buying from us, the pathetic crown of those nerds, freaks, fragiles loosers and weirdos, and all the cool people i really started to dislike them after entering this job.We are all fucking posers in the end.
I respect my father a lot.Once he took me with him and a spacebird flied so close by me up to then, afterwards i dont remember to much.I was just afraid..Frusturated..Too passive maybe..I couldnt neglect though my fathers growing charisma once the birds were about to take me..
