She spent the day, as usual, searching for meaning

... he looked under a park bench, into the corner of an abandoned shack, into the mailbox, into the window of a car parked near the cinema, but once again he found nothing... He began to wonder how many more times he would make a fool of himself and pretend that his existence in this world was purposeful. At some point, he had to stop these several-hour walks and end this pointless pursuit of nothing... Maybe now was the time for it.

He sat down on a park bench to think about the whole situation... he looked over the last year... January, February, March, April, May, June... what nonsense he wanted to find there, after all, those months were filled with emptiness, and analyzing this emptiness could only depress him more, although the question was, could it get any worse... he took a deep breath and started again, after all, he had nothing better to do... he pulled a cigarette from his pocket... he took a drag and seemed to gather new strength to analyze this past time... maybe more objectively... January and February were quite alright... so much was happening... she appeared, and although she was just a whore like all his friends called her, he never thought of her that way, and the fact that he agreed with them was only so he wouldn't have to say anything... so then March came and everything fell apart, in one moment everything ...absurd...to stop loving in an instant...her choice, he would do anything for her, she was his reason, so it's probably normal that when she left, she took him with her...she treated him like one of many...a fleeting feeling in which he invested more than she did...a fool - he thought of himself...he fell in love for the first time and didn't even know what a girl needed...he was a jerk...he wrote her poems, letters and she liked them...but it didn't occur to him to hold her hand, hug her, kiss her...she could forgive him...she could at least say...he was green in "these" matters, his affairs so far had been miserable dives with good beer and a bit of white powder...he left it for her, but damn it, it was about something more...he never thought that touch could have such meaning...he didn't remember anyone ever hugging him at home, so where had he got it from? know...he was partly to blame for the breakup, but she could tell...he would have earned everything to give her what she wanted...but she didn't want...

Enough... then it was April, May, June, July, August, and September, and autumn came... those months were a void after her... trying to push her out of his mind and love someone else... he didn't even know it was possible to suffer so much over one girl... he remembered how well he pretended he didn't care, that he didn't care about her, that he wasn't serious about her at all, but God only knew he was crying himself to sleep, that he was thinking about her, that he wanted her to be there... childish... when he was little, he knew love from books and television. She was so wonderful... flowers... love... love... always together... and she shattered the idealistic vision... when he saw her with that powdered doll, he didn't know whether he would prefer her to come back or for her to disappear from his thoughts and heart forever... when he saw her in the other man's arms, he tried to agree with his friends, but he couldn't...

Then there were colorful leaves and great melancholy... drinking and taking drugs... the holidays were also in a similar mood... the old year mixed with the new, and he still hadn't shaken off that burden...

He didn't even notice when it got dark... he woke up... he smoked another cigarette, coming to the conclusion that he was wasting his time... anger rose within him... maybe he should go back to that filthy basement, then wander around the pubs, fall into a whirlwind of drinking and forgetting... he fell asleep... he dreamed of her... no wonder, because he dreamed of her every day... but this dream was strange... it was the first time he saw her with thousands of men... she looked at some with flirtatious eyes... she held others' hands... she was nestled in others...

He woke up... the dream was running through his mind, wondering if she was as others said... he shook his head... he got up and ran to the pub on Bezsilna Street, drowning herself in alcohol and drugs. an innocent princess and an easy girl, that she was... then there were only some scary windows, some blood, some screams and lights...

He woke up in prison feeling the usual symptoms of a hangover...