Just like the soldier that receives a telegram from her girlfriend what works for the Prime Minister so she knows a top secret information that shares with you: in about twenty six hours the Nazis are attacking your site. There’s no escape, that’s it. This is it. You’re burried. Enterrado. Tres metros bajo el suelo. The only thing in front of you is the fucking death. Te tiemblan los huevos. Se acabó. Bien pinche muerto.
Dying like my dad was during this four stage cancer. At this moment, you know it’s unstoppable and incurable. There's no escape. That's it. There’s scientific prove that shows that you have like two years top in this world. You're burried.There’s nothing to do but to keep the treatment, the quimio. What for? It won’t even work ‘cause it's terminal. Terminó. Terminaste.
It’s amazing how attach we feel to this place. We don’t wanna leave, we fear the death. We are attached to the Earth. Engaged. Fearing the despedida.
Anyway, facing your final. It sucks to know that you have about two hours or three seconds left. But if you think about it, it's not like you are gonna make it for another eighty years.
Ya estás enterado, y no te habías dado cuenta.