Well, it all started when I was a little boy. I was thrown out of home, and lived in the streets with the ’’A.G.W’’ or the Abandoned Graffiti Writers if you prefer. That was what we called ourselves. But really we just were some abandoned kids who lived in the streets. We were a gang of young people who loved painting as it were our religion. Painting, yeah, that was my religion. We painted on naked walls, trains or any kind of place where there wasn’t graffiti on, and we were good at it. We could paint anything you liked, things you only saw in dreams things you don’t even could imagine. But one day my painting got stopped. . .
I wasn’t good in school - but that was my own fault, instead of learning and giving the attention needed, I was painting things in my booklet. Things I wanted to paint on walls. The teachers knew that I had problems with my concentration in the lessons and with my subjects. Instead of helping me with my problems, they agreed to kick me out of school.
When I came home that afternoon my mother kicked me out of home.
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