Daily Measures

Dear indeterminate infant: I have written this letter at the request of Mr. Milcayac, who has made it possible for me to receive this box. Here you will find 30 sweaters made entirely from the strands of my hair. Don't worry about hygiene, I make sure to wash it every day. I have used them myself and can attest to their great ability to regulate body temperature. 13 are brown, 7 are strawberry blonde, and the remaining 10 are both. I don't have any more colors in my head so you'll have to settle for those colors.

Normally you'd charge a hefty amount of money for the rarity and quality of these products, but you'll be able to get them for free in the name of charity I guess.

Under normal circumstances I would end my letter here, but that is not the case. Mr. Milcayac has asked me to write more on the pretext that it would help me practice the language. I respect him, however, I have the impression that he expects me to write some motivational and idealistic talk about childhood, generosity and how much I love you… Boy, I will not know anything about you other than the fact that your The situation is bad enough that wealthy men like Mr. Milcayac feel sorry for you. And that's enough to know how horrible your reality is. So I'll be honest: no one cares about you.

Perhaps if you are lucky your parents will care about you, but outside of them, you are insignificant. You may receive some benefit from the pity you cause in the more fortunate. But that help will only help you get used to asking for help. Before you know it, you will be dependent. Dependence is a vulnerability, and I'm surprised it's not also a deadly sin. If my knowledge of history is true, this same country used to depend on another and did everything possible to end that situation. Do you see how abominable it is? I don't care if you don't believe me, but I experienced it firsthand.

I know what I'm talking about.

So I have decided to help you in a much more effective way. Under all these sweaters you will see a small bag. There I have left you a needle, threads and scissors. Someone probably already told you this, but I'm a very efficient seamstress. I have used those same materials to create many things with the help of my hair. The thing I take the most pride in creating is my face. I know you'll see it when I give you this box, and it won't be until you can read this note that you'll find out it wasn't a real face. I think you can also create something like that for yourself. You would have to.

My new face has given me a new life. What's more, I wish I had thought of creating it sooner.

Dear indeterminate infant: I have written this letter at the request of Mr. Milcayac, who has made it possible for me to receive this box. Here you will find 30 sweaters made entirely from the strands of my hair. Don't worry about hygiene, I make sure to wash it every day. I have used them myself and can attest to their great ability to regulate body temperature. 13 are brown, 7 are strawberry blonde, and the remaining 10 are both. I don't have any more colors in my head so you'll have to settle for those colors.

Normally you'd charge a hefty amount of money for the rarity and quality of these products, but you'll be able to get them for free in the name of charity I guess.

Under normal circumstances I would end my letter here, but that is not the case. Mr. Milcayac has asked me to write more on the pretext that it would help me practice the language. I respect him, however, I have the impression that he expects me to write some motivational and idealistic talk about childhood, generosity and how much I love you… Boy, I will not know anything about you other than the fact that your The situation is bad enough that wealthy men like Mr. Milcayac feel sorry for you. And that's enough to know how horrible your reality is. So I'll be honest: no one cares about you.

Perhaps if you are lucky your parents will care about you, but outside of them, you are insignificant. You may receive some benefit from the pity you cause in the more fortunate. But that help will only help you get used to asking for help. Before you know it, you will be dependent. Dependence is a vulnerability, and I'm surprised it's not also a deadly sin. If my knowledge of history is true, this same country used to depend on another and did everything possible to end that situation. Do you see how abominable it is? I don't care if you don't believe me, but I experienced it firsthand.

I know what I'm talking about.

So I have decided to help you in a much more effective way. Under all these sweaters you will see a small bag. There I have left you a needle, threads and scissors. Someone probably already told you this, but I'm a very efficient seamstress. I have used those same materials to create many things with the help of my hair. The thing I take the most pride in creating is my face. I know you'll see it when I give you this box, and it won't be until you can read this note that you'll find out it wasn't a real face. I think you can also create something like that for yourself. You would have to.

My new face has given me a new life. What's more, I wish I had thought of creating it sooner.

Dear indeterminate infant: I have written this letter at the request of Mr. Milcayac, who has made it possible for me to receive this box. Here you will find 30 sweaters made entirely from the strands of my hair. Don't worry about hygiene, I make sure to wash it every day. I have used them myself and can attest to their great ability to regulate body temperature. 13 are brown, 7 are strawberry blonde, and the remaining 10 are both. I don't have any more colors in my head so you'll have to settle for those colors.

Normally you'd charge a hefty amount of money for the rarity and quality of these products, but you'll be able to get them for free in the name of charity I guess.

Under normal circumstances I would end my letter here, but that is not the case. Mr. Milcayac has asked me to write more on the pretext that it would help me practice the language. I respect him, however, I have the impression that he expects me to write some motivational and idealistic talk about childhood, generosity and how much I love you… Boy, I will not know anything about you other than the fact that your The situation is bad enough that wealthy men like Mr. Milcayac feel sorry for you. And that's enough to know how horrible your reality is. So I'll be honest: no one cares about you.

Perhaps if you are lucky your parents will care about you, but outside of them, you are insignificant. You may receive some benefit from the pity you cause in the more fortunate. But that help will only help you get used to asking for help. Before you know it, you will be dependent. Dependence is a vulnerability, and I'm surprised it's not also a deadly sin. If my knowledge of history is true, this same country used to depend on another and did everything possible to end that situation. Do you see how abominable it is? I don't care if you don't believe me, but I experienced it firsthand.

I know what I'm talking about. Dependence is a vulnerability, and I'm surprised it's not also a deadly sin. If my knowledge of history is true, this same country used to depend on another and did everything possible to end that situation. Do you see how abominable it is? I don't care if you don't believe me, but I experienced it firsthand.

I know what I'm talking about.