Are those fifteen minutes I spend on my self. My own. My silence. My

mental rumbling noise. The music I hear in indescribable notes.

And I, incapable of writing them down. They are magic. In addition, I

know nothing about music. But those fifteen minutes are as a full bag

of potatoes thrown at me by God. Telling me: don’t complain.

Imagine, a full bag of potatoes being thrown at me every day…

that’s a lot of potatoes! Therefore, I have nothing to complain about.

In those fifteen minutes… I get to think stuff…I didn’t think I would

think about. Yes. Even in a language that’s isn’t my Mother tongue.

I don’t know how I do it but I’m sure is no big deal.

I’d like to say. Good night everyone. May you have a pleasant good night

sleep.

Sincerely.

Ernesto Onofre