Hello, everyone ! Please allow me to introduce myself,in case you happen to be reading this (and I’d beg you to reconsider), my name is Rene,and I sail from Argentina. ( that’s makes me a foreigner with a language problem, so no picking,please)
That’s good enough for a start,i suppose…
I grew up in a strict house-hold, that gave me the blues everyday, and I didn’t even know what that meant.By the time I was 16, and having some early experience running away from home twice,I decided that it was time to go for real.
I stayed home as long as I could, but since i always loved adventure,once i knew i would be leaving,my heart felt so exicted I could barely contain my emotions.
I had made my decision,and i tried to break the news to my folks the best way i could. But of course that didn’t work at all. (I kissed my mom, hugged my dad, and went out the front porche of the house with my old school backpack,and my eyes full of dreams.)…yeah, right !
Actually,it was at that particular moment that i realized that life is indeed very difficult …mom actually raised hell and as soon as she saw that wasn’t working,she cried me a river of tears.It wasn’t long before she started calling me ‘the ungrateful son’.
Dad was not so sensitive, at first he tried to talk me out of it, then gather the entire family (mostly Italians) to disuade me from my foolish plans.That went on for hours. When the subsequent scandal subsided and since everybody was ehausted from all the screaming and yelling,(some pro,some against)we all took a little break for needed reflection. (with a little red wine, not to let down tradition )
My idea wasn’t that crazy. All I wanted to do was see the world, be on my own, meet different people and discover new places. What’s so wild about that ?
But , of course my dad had different ideas… 
(end of part 1) and testing text.