Days

There are days.
Days in which all seems to be ok. Days in which all seems to be going wrong.
Days in which seems that the traffic-lights turn green as you arrive. Days in which you curse them for foolishing you, changing into red just when you arrive.
Days in which the bus arrives to the bus stop at the same time that you. Days that the bus goes away just in front of you and it lasts an eternity to arrive to the next one (if it arrives).
Days in which the sun shines, specially if you're on the street. Days in which you put your feet onto the pavement and there's a sudden cloudburst.
Days in which yo go shopping or to do anything and there's no queue. Days that you spent in one and another queue, because it seems that everybody has to do exactly the same as you, but taking even more time.
Days in which every person that you go through makes you smile, even when the other person is pissed-off and you appreciate your own good mood. Days in which you are the pissed-off one who damns the happy one that goes through.
Days and days and more days. All different. But with one thing in common: they are days. Days that pass. That go through as they arrived. That for good and bad stuff, they end in the same period of time: 24 hours.
And I don't know you, but I don't like being 24 hours embittered. So I'll pass the next 24 hours as I passed the previos 24: living in the first sentences and not in the second ones. Because in the end, the day is the same one. What changes is the expression of each one's face and the nervies in our brain.