People running everywhere... it's crowdy, they're sweating, burning, upset, worried... I'm fed up. I feel like punching 'em. Kill some. My muscles are swelling, I can't stand them, light makes them all ugly.

I go out and punch the wall. I'm not hurt, I like the pain. Sometimes.

Why the fuck did they cancel it? Oh that's it, I can barely hear anything with the damn noise they make (always shout, cos they just can't muse), but someone tries to tell us something. It's a female voice, and she seems anxious and nervous. "As a suspicious lugguage has been found in *******, trains are stopped for unknown time".

%@*%!"° Whatever. Gotta make a phone call to tell my brother I'll be late and that his stomach will have to wait til my arrival. Unlike everytime, people are not busy. They're bored. No one reads, they just look at each other, with a sight of disgust. Told you guys. Light works really badly with you.

And I'm waiting... This looks like having no ending. Eventually we are half the way to my home. I bluntly get off the train, pushing everyone. I act like every other fool, without caring of the others. I'm just bored, they are too many of the human species, and I just don't bare them.

I notice that there is a woman I know, there, among them. My aunt. "Hey how are you doing?" "Good and you?" "Well I'm okay..."(would she expect any other answer anyway...). We make our way up the endless stairs leading to the last train we have to take to reach holy goddamn home. It suddenly occurs to me that I won't be there for her. I make her phone number, just to catch a glimpse of her voice, it calms me down. "I love you, I love you...goodnight sweetie". God, if I could ask you one question: why isn't she here with me tonight?

I'm so tired... She leaves me home, I cook him pasta in a rush, and as a matter of facts, I end here, telling you my story. But as you see, this story is boring. It's superficial. Why would anyone care? I wouldn't. So, here is the trick: I write it in another language, so it can get more interesting. Funny ain't it? Oh, I guess, I'll just shut up and sleep.

By the way, this is my twenty-seventh article. Twenty more and this diary ends.