Nonsense

Is there any point in looking at my watch? Anyway, I can't see anything through the cigarette smoke. 

Fine. 

I'm lying.

I can see.

But what if I don't want to see? 

To see how time passes, how it goes around, how the glasses become empty, then the bottle, then the other glasses and the other bottles? 

But what if I need a break? Shall I break the watch? But what about the smoke? Its going away anyway.

We are guided by these numbers, tasks, deadlines, hurry to finish this, do this first, why you didnt you do this and so on. 

And then we hear the last tick-tack, towards the final destination.

I won't look at my watch anymore. 

Breathe, Cris, breathe. 

Slower.

Louder. 

With a cigarette between my fingers and a glass in my hand.

And this is how I measure my seconds... this is my ticking. 

Photo by: Daria