Time is a web sharp in all directions ... We do not live only to fight forgetfulness and think it would be romantic and nostalgic. Also, and more often than it seems, seized by the expectations of all types, which put us in a limbo of a different nature from oblivion . Even oblivion is a dying struggle of some sort.
Waiting is not, is a dry vacuum, a small desert in which we fail to wander because the explosion is imminent, is a second before hitting the cement that stretches and stretches and stretches ...
People die waiting for something or someone ... There are expected to complete in the worst way, as well as other positive ending, but not the end of waiting is quite decisive, nothing in life really is, then expect something involving his background that makes one think about whether There is actually a perverse nature behind the act of existence.
Waiting ... is a different kind of drama.
More disturbing than it seems, of what is perceived.
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