Cold water.

Today time stopped again, you know what I mean, I always explain it to you. Not everybody's time, my time.
The lights shine, broken bottles are in the streets, there are people writing love letters never delivered, but more importantly, the world keeps spinning.
Well, it was not my case today, today my time stopped and I hated it. That feeling is horrible, you know. Every time the time stops, you have to pick up the glasses. But life goes on, and the sun gives you in the face, the little sun that passes the gray clouds -Because I forgot to mention that there were gray clouds full of fear, full of drooping eyelids- and the broken fragments shine, and it's cold, and you're screwed, screwed and radiant.

The rain brought me home, brought me slowly because the bus was going very slowly. I felt like an elephant taking a snail ride. I was tired, and the steam from the asphalt and the cars beside me made the humidity nearer, and my head ached and I was sweating cold, but the steam gave me heat. The music on the bus didn't let me think, I didn't feel like thinking either. You know how it is, and it's worse at night, you don't listen to your thoughts and you can't even see inside your bag to pay the driver.

I arrived home late, paradoxically late to have stopped the time. It was a bad day, I thought. But I smiled, then, I had come home. I had a bag in my hand, and the keys were buried in the bottom of my purse. I was annoyed to look for them and decided to ring the bell...
Ding dong

... I had forgotten that there was nobody at home, that it was only me, that you were not and I understood, after a long pause that nobody would come to open the door. I thought of the keys and felt tired. I bagged the bag in one of the metal drawings of the fence, and with my hands free I set out to unearth the feathers inside the backpack to find the keys, a simple task that should not cause problems.
...the small pocket... I open it, close it... The big one, remove the notebooks, the holster drops... I pick it up, I drop the notebook... I listen to the blin... I don't know where it comes from. I despair, it bothers me. I found them.
I open the door, pick up the notebook on the floor - the same one that gave life to the misfortune -, tried to take the bag and I just can't. The task of unrolling it, unblocking it, picking it up... I can't!
It breaks.

I see myself there at the door, realizing, that I can't even perform the simplest tasks. I was very frustrated, I picked up the table, there was trash in it, and even when I put the trash in the wastebasket, I failed. I felt miserable, in the simplest and easiest way that a human being can feel that way.

The house was alone, and my head was heavy, my eyes were heavy. It was dark. I opened the windows, a cold breeze froze my cheeks and an impact alerted me: the curtains overturned the vase. I sat in the dark, thinking, -What a bad day- I smiled. No one saw me smile and I felt like I was in a war, a lost war.
I started to play jazz, you know, the few songs I have - of which you are already tired - and I undressed.

The house was still dark, I walked to the bathroom, naked, barefoot, cold and with my hair still wet from the orb. I opened the shower and without waiting for anything, I placed myself under it. I took my time, I got out and without drying more than the face, I stood in front of the mirror.
My eyes were tired and dark and the sad gestures made my situation worse, I looked more tired. I took the cream and began to caress the tiredness, and the saxophone shouted that if I smiled, everyone would do it with me. I had made a puddle on the floor.
I was happy. I hummed my skin, I combed my hair and I was happy. I dressed and threw myself into bed, - It wasn't so bad after all. -

I know you think I'm crazy. You hate cold water, you're like those children who don't eat vegetables and throw them under the table. But I tell you, cold water is the key. It's like a war, it's a challenge. You go in there, under the water, without thinking, without fleeing or granting fear, and you remain still, the water begins to cover you... your heart is suddenly accelerated... your muscles contract... you twist... yuor breath is out of control... but you you remain firm, and your heart is calm, your muscles relax, you refresh your soul... the water surrenders, it is not cold ...

And the clock is ticking again.

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