#freerp

# MIKE WHEELER ― LAYOUT!

Enterprise Resource Planning - Chapter 1

Almost done with the 2nd week of class and finally had time to rewrite my notes for FREERP.

•Kuroko no Basket (Kuroko's Basketball)

•Haikyuu!

•Prince of Tennis

•Yowamushi Pedal

•Yuri on Ice

•Diamond no ace

•Free!

•Slam Dunk

•Days

•Prince of stride

❝Childhood, glorious beloved time that we, adults, want to live again and never leave it meanwhile childs just want to grow up and leave their situation thinking that been older means happiness and, to their balance of justice, a better life. What they really don’t know it’s how valuable is their time, I am always wanting to be again a kid and be one of the most rich persons ever, it dosen’t matter how much money do you have if your life is getting shorter and shorter all the time, kids are the future owners of the world and the ones we are actually “on the top” of the world are simple individuals, no more than disgraces to suffer and cry about. My fortune based on time started an early morning in Portsmouth, Hampshire, the 8th of September of 1925. My parents didn’t really expect me to be born by that time and so I was a kind of surprise when my mother found out about my existence at the 5th month of pregnancy. Before my life started, my elder creators tried to have a perfect child whose name would be Peter. They actually wanted just that baby, only one kid with the accurated name so as life, at least that’s what I always wondered till the point it blocked my mind and ideas. My parents wanted another baby, maybe a girl instead because the thought of having another son was kind of a huricane insidr of my mothers heart, but when I first cried in this cold world, my mother instantly developed a maternall and loving feeling thowards me. In the other hand, the joy of my father for a new human in their life turned soon to be more as a repulsive one. His name was William Sellers, her name Agnes. By mutual desire, they wanted me to be Richard Henry Sellers, I guess the Henry part was from my father’s family, my mother certainly never talked much about them and so I was taken away from my relatives from both families. About the Peter nik-name I was given, all I can say is that it drove me nuts.❞ ❝ A “funny” tale I can relate is that when I was 6 and I learned to write and read at least ny name, I used to use Peter instead of Richard, my parents were so glad till the point everywhere I was with them they wanted me to pronounce that name instead of the real one, the thought I was my unborn brother and that his soul was mine, so one day at an school in Brighton that I would join, the director asked for my name as a normal conversation pretending to be nice. I instantly said Peter and she was confussed due to in my birth register I was Richard. Imagine how awark was it for some days till they teachers learned my story and soon had to forget my face, my parents were theatre actors and so we were constantly moving. It didn’t really helped me to make a proper formation, my fathet wanted me to follow his steps since I had 2 months of life appear on my first play and at the age of 2 my first role, which I totally fulfilled crying of shame and the public laughing. I wasn’t the kind of student who sucessed with history but yes with maths and art subjets, the ones I most sucessed was music and tecnical drawing. Even if they were kinda related to acting, the most lovely words I was said from my father, William, were:“ You will have a bright future as sweeper!”. That’s why I always loved more my mother, even if she was Agnes I called her Peg and she always said my name in a slow way. She was the only one who encouraged me to sucess in acting and music, as my father wanted me to be the perfect pianist and guitar player, my mother convinced him to buy me an old drums set and a pair of sticks. Music wasthe only thing that could make me forget about my constant changes. I was never a friendly kid, most of my time fighting and let’s not talk about girl…They were my disgrace, because boys can hate you for been different but they always shaked your hands and played football with you meanwhile girls just made my life a kind of burning hell. My ego was dissapearing, my joy and kindness too and I had nothing to enjoy but those drums I was given. Improoving and impressing my mother thanks to my master, my teacher Joe Daniels, a leyend from Brit Jazz.❞

Si tuviera que escribir mi bitácora de expedición espíritual, el primer capítulo sería de cómo recordé mi nombre en pleno apogeo de la catabasis, le rindo honores a la hostigante travesía para encontrar una humilde casita de bosque, al final de las vías de un tren perdido que atravesaba el mar de china, dónde Zen zumu me recibió con la merienda mientras sus sombras hacían labores del hogar. Aquella mujer extravagante de la que me hubiera encantado aprender mejor, le dio un giro a todo lo que conocía, porque yo no conocía ni mi nombre.

Me dejó jugar con los hilos de tejer y el rollo de copas, formando un juguete cuyo el vaivén de arriba abajo me mantuvo enfocado mientras la escuchaba contar la historia del cómo un viajero llegó un día a su puerta, alguien interesante que se mostró ante ella con las manos vacías y el corazón lleno, con curiosidad y miedo, con la intención de escapar del mundo espiritual.

Ella contaba en su voz suave de abuelita, el sonido de las agujas tejiendo y la tetera silbando le acompañaban, mientras yo... y yo, y yo, y yoyo jugaba.

(Gracias por dejarme pasar la noche.)