Dear Friends,
today I will begin to write down my story, the story of my life as a young boy, confronted with so much violence and hate. I was 9 or 10 years old, my father was an alcoholic and sometimes he came to me and hit me fair in the face without any reason. My glasses flew down onto the bottom. ; When I rode by bicycle through the streets, it happened, that boys, who are older, stopped me and hit me also in the face. After that I could continue my ride. ; In school, when I was…
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