one day only salad without spinach in butter and let the music, sometimes I dream, where am I in a house or in the earth, if I stop breathing I think I'll go have a beer to forget that I am ready to be far from understanding what is happening, my head works well, I can count two plus two, but what's going to happen when I drink wine, at once I relax unable to duplicate what I did yesterday, I do not care, all advance in the disorder, why look for meaning where it can not not exist, the only sense that breathes is humans, they are born somewhere to walk to the last day, it's common sense, one that is most true, whatever they say otherwise they are stories for children, nothing can change humans, it is on earth for too long, it just repeats from generation the the same story, but this repetition is it for later, when we leave this earth, do we have to know what we did before, this is an unanswered question, nobody has returned from death except perhaps ants, but they do not speak