P.I.P_II (english)

Six o´clock and still not sunrise, exit the sun but nothing, the dark follow there is live inside me, song the alarm but this time don´t pick up. Has me to consume, without desire, with much effort and tears in my eyes, I sit the edge of the bed, -I look the hour-, to make late me, but What more give?! Just left continue whit this comedi that someone to call life.

To shouts i ask help me, but, no body see me, no body listen me, no body think me; then question me: what for exist? What for? Which is the sense?

The time pass, the second is convert in minuts, the minuts in hours, the hours in days, the days in years; and I here, struggling for exit of this “reality”, so and not of pther dhape pass my days in a gloom while forged my happiness, to smoking other cigar, go (pa) four half´s but still no fell improve would for can charge with this farce for other day more.

And so every time more and more immersed in the depts of the monotony, without posibility some of achieve of into the shadow that tie to my life, or until that get the courge and the balls for put end to this continuo suffering.