Till Noon

7:00 am. sharp.I wake up.My arms are numb,i rushed a shower,drak a cup of coffee…I shouldnt have.The motion in my arms started with a shake.

9:01 am.I sat down,drank another cup of coffee,I shouldnt have…wind blows in my face,and my head is full with mucous.Ontology started,the ateachers face resemblance Nicolae Ceausescu,but this day’s all time forgotten faces look like that.The slow voice and the booring lecture+2 coffee punches makes me want to pull out an imaginary desert eagle and drill holes trough my classmates.

9:39 am.I’m on auto pilot,somewhere locked in my mind,like a deep sleep ,shakeing hands with my uncouncious..Blood still pumps….The only philosophical question that matters is “What am i doing here?”.This is not my time,i should have been borned in another place,in the time of Caesar,i should have been a blacksmith.I awake….disapoiment enclosing .I am death with a hockey cross….useless on ice…useless as a mithic character.

Nimic ce pare nimic,nu ajunge sa ne uimeasca.