I wake up with a 38 c (100 f in burger units)
I start to work with 42 c (107 f in freedom units)
I go to “sleep” with 35 c (98 f in Trump units)
Funny thing is that I actually complain more than feeling the heat, although the heat burns my skin if I ignore it it’s very bearable
I remember when I was a kid and around this time everything was cold and I was very happy with that
While cleaning I found the number of my first love (we were both 13) she gave me, I fumbled that first love
Her number is the name, we were close but never in a relationship. I don’t like her anymore, the pain is more about the memory than the event or person itself
This was never about heat