I want to stop a minute.

They tell me to do things, but... what things? I need a minute (or maybe two) to choose a direction, if I'm going to eat a extra-cheese pizza or a burguer with tons of ketchup. It's important. Even pizzas can have like twenty different toppings, and it's not easy to choose. Or the burger. Do you want it with lettuce and onion rings or with any other shit they put on it?

Why don't they just stop pushing me?

Oh yes, they go and sit and snap their fingers and they know what they want. Their brain and their heart are coordinated. They breath by inertia. But there are others who need to know that they are breathing, to feel the air coming in and going out. The ones who need to stop a minute.

Even though on their back the crowd, the mass without face, comes pushing and pushing.

For god's sake, just a minute.

But of my time.

Because my time has nothing to be with yours.