Love. You lay on your back on imaginary sea floor with your loved one. Everything is still and silent. The moment has reached its peak as both of you instinctively -and yet so heart warming awkwardly- start to reach out for each other. Few more moments and your lips meet for the very first time. Shyly and lightly at first, then heavier and heavier as you feel how everything starts to melt away. Your heart turns into some exotic rare flower in its full bloom, strangely growing and withering away at the same time. You're a planet consisting of unstable red gas orbiting this hot hot hot bright sun that pulls you towards it's core. And all you ever wanted to do is to collide. To pull out the knifes and slit her throat. To scream out your elemental fury like the primal animal god you've just become. That she has just made you. It's like all the anger and hate in the world placed upside-down in your soul. You just can’t keep it together. Let’s say if you got a cat for one day, I mean, if you, say, if you want a cat for 365 days, right, you ain’t got him for 365 days, you got him for one day. I tell you that one day better be your life. You can cry about the other 364, man, but you’re gonna lose that one day, and that’s all you’ve got. You gotta call that love. That’s what it is ‘cause as a matter of fact, as we discovered in the train, tomorrow never happens, it’s all the same fucking day, man. Day passes and other suns start appearing, interfering with your orbit, messing up the divine plan and suddenly your warm precious sun goes all supernova on you burning the last remain of humanity away from you. You end up orbiting this endless cycle around cold black burned out sun, that once filled your world with joy, like the wreck of a planet you’ve become. Aeons and aeons of gut gripping despair and what for? Because of that one day.