8.50 pm

It's 8.50 pm, and there are many different things I can do. But I don't know which one to choose. Time goes slowly, infinitely. I feel like yesterday, and the same the day before: alone. I hear the clock sing ceaselessly, taking my sleep away. I want to sleep, I need to sleep. But I can't. Everything says me that I'm lost, in a gentle sea full of fish I can't catch. I fell like useless. I hope someday to be complete, so I can say: I'm Free.