Nirvana entre las nocturnas noches
noche de Nirvana... #neo.beatrixkiddo

One day inside my bored life, I decided to walk into
my dad’s apartment in full surprise. Well the surprise was more than huge. I'm telling
you. When I sneaked in through that fancy ultra secret pathway between our
apartments, heard weird noises, thought my dad assumed I was never ever going
to cross that pathway he built in and probably leave it with a disconnected
alarm or some kind of ring that could tell him I was coming. Anyway I found him
in bed naked and fucking a red haired with big tits. My dad’s body I found sort
of unpleasant, with an ass and shoulders full of hair, in contrast with the
fair skin the woman he was penetrating. I moved silently and fast around the
place, that, I knew well, since he taught me how to when I was a little girl when
we used to play this game of the hiding detectives. I was already for some
reason a little suspicious of him in an unfamiliar way. When I moved around, I
was at the same time listening to their noises or voices. I reached to his
office, saw a lot of paper work on top of the desk and couple of chairs around
it, some coffee cups, and a delivery food package on the trash can on the
corner. It all seemed to me like they where working seriously on something. I
roamed around all the rooms of his apartment, until I found by accident one
with a sing outside standing in Greek letters, saying “do not enter”. The door
was already half open, and in all my intense curiosity, I found there a bunch
of guns and other aggressive devises. Saw this one that brought out my
attention; a car´s bomb. I studied it and found it ready to be set, the time fixed,
and a little red paper to lid it out with a sticker if you wanted to place
under a car. You know I was a movie Frick and I knew all that stuff. For the
way it was made, I imagined you could also placed it to the doors or whatever
other surface. I saw around several other devices of similar contexture, some
smaller, some bigger ones. The smaller seems where the more destructive ones. I
took one of those with me, and in my way out saw daddy´s still fucking the red
haired woman and a funny painting on the wall that brought my attention, the
painter was from a man named Botero, and the subject on the painting where some
fat religious people dressing in a funny way. The thing that caught my attention
was the fact the paint was crooked to the left. I got closer to it and looked
behind and found when I moved out, a safe deposit box. I look and in an
instinctive reflect, I dial my birthday´s numbers, and, voila, the thing opened
right open. Found inside some papers with government seals of “top secret”. I
took them, and from the pile of money, I took, for an unknown and suspicious
way that has to do with my hidden personality, a whole lot of it, and I ran out
quick. In my way out after all, the red haired woman with big tits wave me good
bye. She had glasses on; those secretaries used making them look nerdy, while
my dad was still on top of her doing weird noises. I looked at her friendly, I
smiled out, thought she might saw my picture at my dad´s office. I turned
around from my dad´s backs in a way that the woman couldn’t see me, and I fast
placed the bomb under their bed. I felt sorry a little about her, but thought
in a strong way, she was as guilty as him. Then I waved good bye to the lady
and disappeared.

My dad, since he never really paid much
attention to things I have, so he didn’t really mind my eccentric taste. He
lived in the other half of this flat, like I told you, and our only connection
was a secret pathway he built in an “invisible” corner with an electronic
device on the wall to open it. I never really used it, even when my dad asked
me ever since we moved here to go over for a visit or have dinner together. The
reason I never went over to my dads, was that I sort of find out that he was a
kind of an assassin, sort of a hit man on the contract or some big shit working
for some government agency, you know. So I began to develop inside me a sort of
an antipathy for him since in my search I found that his targets where mostly
having innocent people involved, or people that do good stuff for others. So from
the time when we moved here to this ugly building couple of years ago, I hardly
see him at all.
My
dad is a killer
He worked for the C.I.A.
He lives inside up tide Manhattan
His job was
“The Cleaner”
I killed my
dad
Because he
was a decease
His name
was Roland, Roland Bush
He worked
for the C.I.A.
His job was
a “cleaner”.
Labels: nirvana, nirvana+music, nirvana+noches+suicidio, 夜间夜
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