is not to say that the days they fly, they do, if not that what the hell do I do with the other eight hours a day working or sleeping or "Where are you!? 
"Who is left with them!?
Ahem, well, what I think is that I do a thousand things and finally the hours pass without making any noise.
Either that, or wasting time, shockingly, for all these days I read, but I have not finished a book, I tried the piano, but I have not learned anything new, I've done some drawing, but I have not finished any strip, I written some stories, but none has final ... no beginning.
I have a problem.
"Who is left with them!? Ahem, well, what I think is that I do a thousand things and finally the hours pass without making any noise.
Either that, or wasting time, shockingly, for all these days I read, but I have not finished a book, I tried the piano, but I have not learned anything new, I've done some drawing, but I have not finished any strip, I written some stories, but none has final ... no beginning.
I have a problem.
