Okey, ¿qué pedo?

Sunday morning, that damned truck again. Upcoming call... nope, better luck next try.
Last thing I remember is me getting over the fence a couple hours ago. Strange as it seems, no dog barked. The quietest night in months, the stupidest no doubt.

Everything looks more artificial than usual today. Not sure why. Perhaps I haven't fully awoken yet; the dream was far more real than reality this time. Get the cup, get some coffee. Everything is going to be all right.

It's that damned moral thing I got stuck in the back of my skull, it's the feeling of being constrained... at least that's the excuse, the consolation: "You got no choice man, you did the right thing, I'm proud of you", coming from the last corner of my head. "It was simply the worst idea ever, I'm happy you reconsidered." And it was indeed, I truly believe it was. But that doesn't explain me quitting, me folding, me escaping from myself in the middle of the night. What happened to me, what made risk so frightening? I don't know, I don't want to know. I want to forget last night ever happened.

Artificial and plain, boring.
I'm an idiot, a very naïve one.
Keep calm, drink some coffee.