First you go to a job interview and it lasts 3 hours long. It's 42 degrees (celsius) outside. You talk to people and make acquaintances, but you don't change phone numbers or emails. And you meet a sweet 19 years old boy with the deepest blue eyes ever. You feel you were not very succesful on the interview. But you are what you think, so you must believe that they will hire you.

Then, exhausted, you go back home. Now it's 45 degrees and it's a long way until you get home. You have lunch and take 40mg of Valium and take a short sleep.

You are awaken by your little siblings yelling. Your friend, whom you do not see for ages, calls you and says you're going out tonight. And you wait.

And then Mother Earth sends you a strong rainstorm, with powerful winds. And you run out of cigarettes. But you need those cigarettes. So you go out in the rain. And you feel the water falling upon you and the wind hitting your back, washing your soul. And you open your arms and let the water wash you and you don't care if a lightning ray hits the tree you're passing by right now and you don't care if the fruits, bloomed by the recent arrival of the Spring, fall on your head and kill you, because when it's time, it's time. And you thank the Planet for allowing you to feel this pleasure. This short pleasure. The pleasure of being alone in the streets and having this wide range of feelings.

And then you come back home. The storm weakens, but it's still windy. And you wait for his call. And you want his call. But now you feel he won't call anymore. So you just smoke a pack of cigarettes.

And let your seconds pass.