I'm being too graceful towards my principal.
I was in 5th grade. I was just a boy. After the 🌅 assembly, I was walking along the line to our class, and then suddenly, I felt a sudden rush of comfort in my head. My hair has been gently pulled and stroked by the principal. She was a mature tall woman. She asked me why my hair was so short and why I have gotten a hair cut. She was 😆 with me in front of the whole school. I was in a state of 🥺. I could respond. I was respected. I felt extremely honored. I felt nothing but 😁 for her. Nothing but noble fantasies that I imagined that could happen to her. I hoped something good might happen to her. And I still do. I wished for her and her whole family to 😄. A recurring never-ending fantasy of endless pleasure of the best kind ever imaginable. I will always remember that day. How could I not? The comfort, the pleasure I felt can always be balanced. ALWAYS!!!
I always hoped to surprise her with a birthday party. A party she always would have expected. All her kin at the same place. And she cuts her 🎂 and serves it to everyone. And I'll eat it too. As a way of proving to her it was made with pure love, just as Gustavo Fring took the first joyful sip of Don Eladio's exquisite Zafiro Añejo, solidifying the profound trust of their grand celebration. I'll watch as all of them 🥳 and 🥹, and see her in the eyes and say, I'm so glad you ruffled my hair, you brilliant 🌟.