Lonely Sunday

There will be a Sunday night that while your friends upload a photo of their Saturday. And you have the cell phone in silence and Whatsapp is a simple distraction. 

That you will doubt your youth, since there is no car race, nor do you have a kiss on the lips and less the cries of a laugh.

You are in front of the TV with the repeat of a series of the 90s and the books are marked on the same page. And it is a classic to question whether the minutes of your twenties are a waste in you. Maybe you should be among an ocean of strangers and sending messages every hour with a different story. Perhaps the world would open before your feet if you challenged it with a night out.

You think about it in the silence of a few seconds of the old and racist joke, you entertain it when the book has already lost its appeal.

However, you know that you are bored and that the outside night is not your environment. People drink too much and smile when they shouldn't. They talk about Tini and tennis and don't know about the end of the world. Music has no meaning just as lights hurt your eyes. And there will be a city waiting to consume your life, however, you are fine with your cat on the feet and the sound of the keyboard.

T.A.