A lot of waste too much time waiting for me here at the entrance. I look at him, closed tight and smell. I go up and disturbing shadows all known 'inside. Slowly I try to open the knot that keeps it closed. Put my hand in with my eyes closed rummaging wet and slimy. I sniff your fingers and the smell is acrid, death and oblivion. Inconvenient Truth. I want to understand better so I begin to extract its contents. Cards notes useless stained with oil and coffee, bottles, crumpled paper towels and dried mucus. Do I have everything in order and continuous. I go deeper and touch what was a white mozzarella and juicy, full of tiny worms hours. It rip a dripping piece of yellowish serum, the taste. E 'and I feel distinctly acid in the mouth agitation of the larvae, not for long, fast and chew it all boils down to an indistinct mass toxic. I swallow. The lid of a yogurt remains attached to the shirt, and lick what's left, is acidic. Annoying filaments between the teeth. Nausea grips me and watery eyes. Do not cry, tears. Cigarette butts, ashes. As I turn one and I aspire to that which remains, tar disgusting. Check the filter and put it out on the brand of moist rotting vegetables, and even the taste, musty. There seems to be nothing if not fermented liquids and locks of hair scattered old 'everywhere. Now the bag is empty should again be saturated with what gives anguish and shame. Of what will hopefully disappear, lock tightly in plastic bags and throw away. I think back to the manual of self liberation, maybe I get it.
stacked in a corner of the useless crap I put my head in the bag and tie tightly. Lying smile, more and more sleepy and nervous, more like the truth. I close my eyes, I finally stop crying and tears. Just today I found out the name of my daughter, Odus.
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