The things have moved in my life worse: I feel I eat if he was not part of these changes, or as if none of them affected me. It is not truth Most of the time, these changes ONLY affect same me. I do not know what I must make: to smile for these such changes, to accept and them of ' ' good grado' ' or if I must relutar against them until not having more forces at least to type I find me at a time where almost everything is newness, where the things are not more as old, where I is not more as it was I fight to make the racket of the keyboard keys to be bigger and stronger than the racket produced for hammering of my father (making plus a change here in house) but nothing it happens The racket of mine to use a keyboard adds &#039 echoes in my ears one; ' tk-tk-tk' ' to each time that it touches the hammer I nail in it, and it beats, it beats, it beats Plus a change, and I physically continue equal. Perhaps leaner, or a little higher With older certainty. To each older day, and being judged still as ' ' jovem' ' I only have fourteen