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 30.09.2016
When I was a kid, I thought I would be allowed to choose my horse at the barracks. I then thought that I would definitely ask for a two-meter-high black hole with a hot hole, like in a movie...



Should I say that I didn’t have to choose a sports club? I was first planted on a low nested merino with a sleepy character, with which I could not cope at all. He mocked me with his passivity. It made me tired and upset. Several times I even came to tears when nothing came out.



And when I grew up a little bit and sat on a horse for the first time, which was barely faster than him, I almost died of horror, thinking that it was incredible speeds, like racing! In fact, we barely surpassed the other horses that were riding.



Plus, the first horse I fell in love with was not a frog, but a light gray (white) goat. I am as always.



My second childhood dream was to fly without a saddle through the fields, to the sides of my hand, feeling the wind in my hair, overtaking time.



My first gallop in the fields was unexpected. I walked, stood behind from the change, did not warn anyone about it. Do you know why? My cabbage has a beard belt.



By the way, I would say that he has no such function to start worrying. You could get along with the change to the coach and not get rid of it.



I stopped the horse. It descended. He held his belt for business. We sat back... and we started to catch up. In the process of acceleration, the cockroach moved from the rise to the gallop. I have never done that before. She splashed her ass into the seat, grabbed her feet and hands into the cockroach and made such eyes.



I arrived at the coach in integrity and safety, but everyone was scared. And for the first time in my life I couldn’t stretch my fingers... literally! It shattered my joints from fear. I literally shrugged my fingers. Remembering is terrible.

Flying fucking through the fields with the wind.



After these and some other episodes of my life that hit my memory, I fell in love with romantic movies for girls, where a small town boy cuddles a wild frog and becomes his best friend. Well, just wildly far from reality such movies. Looking at them, I did a lot of nonsense, imitating my favorite heroes, full of dreams, and hardly suffered. And not only me.



A lot of children try to embrace horses for poops, thinking that the horse will not shake them out of love. There is no love between them. Only a child’s imagination. After all, if you feed a horse with tastes in the movie, it immediately becomes domestic.



Those kids were also upset. And they did worse nonsense, from which they earned both bites and fractures, and everything was. In general, I repeat: I hate fucking children’s horse films and cartoons.
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