My favorite silence

After everything in the day is over, it seems that the world is over It’s my favorite silence. There is no one in the room, no one talks to me. Sometimes advertisements that I am not interested in fly from the end of the world. Only the sound that no one knows from the small speaker continues to be born. The words that no one understood turn into a song. The blue heat that cannot be called love or kindness which collapses without being understood by A, I. flows down like sand between today and tomorrow. One shooting star, to the south. A car with a broken light, to the south. One shooting star, to a wish. A foolish man just stands up.