I remain living at George Orwell’s animal farm.I think sometimes that I feel as the donkey, and otherwise I am the parrot. As my name is lorenzo and in Spanish loro is parrot, so I confirm my own suspicious focus. So I live in front of the water spring in the ceiling of the forest, the dossal, canopy or forest ceiling. My mates are tree copes: the vicious and luxurious mango, that far old as mine, does not work, and consider an offense if some one think about (I cut them). The hearted leaf of the urticacea’s with his glasses, wet and soft flowers, as delightful delicatessen for birds.