Wednesday, September 29, 2010


Walking this street with you now, makes me feel like I am walking with a war comrade on a lost and hidden battlefield that only you and I are able to see, surrounded by crocks and ruins, the remaining of buildings with their tops on fire. Stepping on debris, I turn to look to myself, only to see that the lost battles here left wounds that are still bleeding. And with every step we take together, I feel that my comrade becomes my enemy and I continue walking carefully and prepared to put out needles just like a hedgehog. War is not a choice; it’s like hitting a Start button, and once the game is on, to me it’s going till the end, because “Abandon” is a lesson I’ve never learnt. And we walk, both quiet, to think of it the end of this road is not as far as it seems, but long enough to have time to think and wonder why my enemy is in the same time my best friend, and why my best friend, sometimes leaves me wounds that I didn’t yet find a cure for. Whenever I take out my guns and shoot them, I close my eyes just so I won’t see you take the fall that I provoked. You stop suddenly to show me the roof of the building, where we used to sit late at night, with our legs hanging over the city, making us feel and believe that we could arrange the whole world as we pleased. What stopped us?
The moment I started to know that I can’t trust you.
The times you fucked up over and over again. I told you this will happen.
Every time that I put pieces of my soul over a tray and you hit it with your foot, throwing everything on the ground and stepping on it. And now you try figuring out yourself, why the fuck you’re feeling cold whenever you sit close to me.


  1. very nice story! hm...It`s like I`d like to find out more about this story - this tricky friendship

  2. It was just an use of the word friend:D