story about my brasilian life. :(

O.K, everyone I'm really depressed. I'm here to tell you about my spite When I was 6 years old, I had to work really hard: I had to take bricks to around 1 kilometer far from where I was and walking a lot and you know why? Because I'm brasilian? Is this something legal to do??? If I did not do the work requested I was tortured and exiled from my home for 1 month. I had to steal food to survive. I thought I was dreaming about catapult escape but then noticed that it was real. I did this until I became 15 years old. I was booted out of my home. I lost everything I had. I tryed to work to gain some money but I was always not threated correctly just because I'm brasilian. I had less than what I needed only to buy food so I was eating once for 2 days. At 20 years old I traveled to Canada because I noticed that Brazilian people were enraged. That was serious. I thought that this country was the paradise but that wasn't real. People claim to not be racist but this is not real. I was also getting beaten. When I became 30 years old, I worked really hard though and passed through everything to gain money. I spent a little of money every day to accumulate what I wanted, to reach my goal. At 45 years old I finally had around $60,000 CASH which were into the bank later! I was really happy until one day, I met a jew. We became very good friends for 3 years that I was trusting him at 101%. I've also asked him «why people hate jews? Your soul and karma is so fresh that you worth being a brasilian». After 1 year of this talk, I gave him my bank account so he can be its guardian for more security. The days passed when one day I decided to take some money from the bank for the first time. I was really scared because money means life. At this time, I was 49 years old. I asked the bank that I wanted to withdraw $45 so that I can get them with me but the bank said that I only had some cents. I tried to find my best friend (it was my only one) but he wasn't there. I called the police and detectives but nothing was found. After I explained everything, one detective told me «I know that there is no proof to accuse people without proof but... Don't you think that your jew friend might be for something?» I fu.cked his mouth and all the people in the room (brazilians like me are known to be very strong) then left it while saying «DON'T TALK ABOUT MY BEST FRIEND!!». If right now I know who stole my money, I would kill him. I worked a little more later to get enough money to buy a laptop. Now I'm here, alone, taking wilfert in a broken house, 62 years old and felled playing crossfire. It is something unbelievable that is actually true. That was my brasilian story, please tell me what you feel about it. Thank you.