Here in my room talking to himself like a madman, pass the time without control. Imagining what might have been but was not, remembering what was and should not have been. I get under the duvet thinking I am an ostrich and under nothing bad can happen, since the bed is blue sky, the sun shine. I have nothing to do, just think, hope it goes one more day and from my window, not the more light. At the end comes a new day and everything goes, I have something to do and little to think, I leave the sun to heat the remains of frost on the previous day.
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