Napalm Love.

That’s the truth. That’s the simple bloody truth. Tomorrow I will wake up early in the morning, will snooze the alarm for 15 minutes, or sinfully for 20 if I was to give myself a treat. I will turn on my laptop, to put on some music that I don’t really wanna listen to, then leave it to go shower. I won’t forget to put some water to boil. As I get out of the shower, all dressed and smelly with glittery body lotion, I will pour myself a hazelnut flavoured cappuccino. I’d probably munch on some biscuits, sip on the cappuccino, listen to some music and stare at a white and blue website that I’ve been checking for a while now. That will probably take around 20 minutes, my lazy morning treat. I’ll get down and I’ll good-morning a door porter, whom I don’t really like but have no authority to just burst into his face and tell him how much I just hate his guts for no apparent reason. Apparently, I just nicely good-morning him, because he has a nice wife and a nice little girl – so basically two women save his ass every morning, but that’s another story. I get out my mp3 player and I stick the two headphones in my ears, and the bloody thing always plays “Napalm Love” as the first track, in other words, it has the same seed for its random number generator – but I wouldn’t want this talk to go any more technical. I cross the street and then cross a very big square with a lot of intersections. If this was any normal day, I’d walk for a couple of blocks and await my usual bus to work. But no, tomorrow I will trample over a gun that is just lying around in the square and that caught nobody’s attention but mine. I pick it up and it’s fully loaded. I point it to my heart and its dirtiness makes a mark on my well-ironed white shirt, one of those shirts I wear to work and all. I pull the trigger without hesitation. On the contrary, I do it with the energy the hazelnut-flavoured cappuccino filled me with and with the same extroversion that I spread around… and that’s the simple truth.