Cause it's a long road to wisdom but it's a short one to be ignored

Cause it's a long road to wisdom but it's to short to be long

Sometimes we forget what immense gift life is.

And maybe instead of staying in self-pity and pulling hair over spilled milk, we should just enjoy this and hide in the deepest part of the drawer of our mind, every past experience negative.

Forget about it, cancel everything.

Cancel those people who haven't been able to grasp our value and situations that didn't go exactly as we wanted.

Too difficult.

***

Harry had always been an extremely positive person, one of those who see good inside or try to find it even when there isn't, who can be happy even for trivial reasons at the cost of going through stupid and brainless.

In his pretty little head full of curly, since he was small, he had always thought that there was nothing better than living life itself.

And, then, smile.

Smiling in a dark and gray day accompanied by a loud thunderstorm, because, wow, The rain is really beautiful and fresh; smile, even when he happened to see his mother with a sad expression and distraught, hands to hold up a heavy head, because, whatever the problem was, only to see him, he would have reported good humor and smile at those who he would never understand, because there really hope for everyone.

He liked to think that human beings were all the same and that each of them had a chance to be happy, that they should give a hand to each other to move forward and everything would be easier.

He had never had any particular talent, in part to sing so well in the shower (if you can consider it so) and, therefore, used to believe that his vocation was simply this.

A kind of new Messiah of the poor, a Mahatma Gandhi resuscitated or simply a naive boy of sixteen who liked to wear a foulard in his hair, with a vast arsenal of floral shirts in the closet and that, adamant, preached peace and love everywhere.

So, if anyone had asked him what he hated in hid life, he would only responded simply nothing.

But it wasn't.

There was this monstrous and huge environment called school, which at his age could be great or a total hell, and for him, well, it was not exactly the best place in the world.

So, here it is, the negative part of his life, all this desire to give love and no one ready to play the game, because he was a kid too weird for his age and dressed extravagantly.

Every morning he go to school with the hope that he could talk to someone and that he would discover something new, but it never happened.

The only person who had the courage to approach him, not turn up her nose was a little girl named Viola who loved yoga and vegetarian food and had if it not been for her, he would end happily exchanging a word with the wall.

Of course, he couldn't care, walk tall and wait patiently for those three years would end, until you have a personal redemption once out of that bad place, but it wasn't the type.

He liked the attention, being together with the people and had never thought of being an unpleasant company, therefore, he couldn't explain why everyone ignored him; although, actually there was a reason, all right.

"Styles"

Every time, that a small boy with fringe spread in front of his blue eyes called him with the shrill voice from the back of the hall, he ended up startled and had to be careful not to drop to the ground, all the books in his arms.

Viola would parried by as a bodyguard, but it was useless, she would found herself sighing, surrendered to his fate and ready, like all holy morning.