From the rainy morning in some industrious land in 1940 , lies a man naked seen throughout the window of his tiny and messy apartment. A classic noise rings in the small clock, conveying that it is time to start the day. It took several minutes in order for this man to be fully conscious despite having a lack of sleep in the night. He lazily reach for the clock, turning it off, shutting the nuisance that irritates ones hearing.
He stood like a statue coming back to life in expense of the night. Naked, but muscular in its own composition. A natural phenomenon of a man's physique. He then, wore his 3 day non-washed jeans to start the morning ritual. Even if it is a messy and chaotic system, he still in some way does what should be done. From the kitchen he picked his favorite mug for his black bold coffee, an early starter. A kick in the ass in order for him to function like a human being.
After his usual routine, coffee, bath, and news. As what a common working man does, yet he in his own way does not have work, like a bum in the sideroad looking for opportunities or rather, luck. While preparing stoically in a messy headspace, he then try to be aware of himself. A thing which he loves to do before he go to war, a chaotic societal bleakness. He look through the window, seeking for meaning yet all he saw was the rain.
The rain pours like an unending reminder of ones own solitude, each drops goes in like a mist sprayed with rage. Why do lots of people find peace in the rain? how is it lovely and calm while all I see is the god's anger turns into tears brought to us, to convey the feeling of sadness in each one of us.
Escaping thoughts, he then pick up the black umbrella from the side of the door and goes outside, tries to look for another day of surviving life. From side road there is crowd, he needs to be alert, from his experience, he don't trust anymore. He then goes down from place to place, thriving, trying to seek another chance for this world to accept his whims.
It is always a failure, a feeling of futility, he was aware of it. In what reason people desire to give chances in a sinful behavior? He did not eat, he continued to try and find something, someone, somewhere. It should be the action, right? to not give up, to push forward, to try and try. But to him, it is over. How a such a man can be more dipped into negativity. He felt tired.
After spending the day of seeking, he does not have any energy to do anything anymore. He just want to rest. In his past years of living, he don't even feel human. Coming from a broken family, living with bad blood, fighting for food and place. He despise life, despise his father and mother, despise people. Surrounded by this darkness and suffocating environment, no wonder a man desires to rest forever.
With an expressionless place, he throws his umbrella in the dump of trash. Letting the rain devoured him and bless him. He walk with no alertness, like a man already accepted his own fate. He goes to nowhere, just walked towards what it feels like to be. His feet end up in the bridge, a bridge that most people call a "way to peace".
