Sometimes I feel like i can’t even catch my breath.

Many days and nights have passed since the last decision I made:

That I shouldn’t be that worried while going home... but that’s what they said in the seventies: When is the time that a dream has gone wrong when you’re with me? I wish I were back home again.

But there can be no again, no more. I wish the world were a quieter place.

I’m afraid I’ll get used to this lack of morals and this inner solitude until this gibberish outside there...will simply disappear.

Sometimes I wonder why I try to maintain some things...there’s no use on doing that.

Times have changed and I’m kind of out of phase.

I can’t miss you more.