3 Weeks and one day. Three weeks and one day ago, my father died. Saturday, April 30th, 6:30 am. I still remeber the moment the hospital called, so clearly. Somehow a part of my memory still thinks it´s saturday, april 30th or sunday, march 1st, as if time stopped then. And then, another part of me feels like not three weeks but three months or even more has passed by. I count the time from saturday to saturday. How could so much time pass so fast? And how can it still feel like no time had passed at all? Time is indeed a strange and odd thing.
But , anyway, I´m back at DA (I guess...). At least I feel like I would like to go on wi