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Mostrando entradas de junio, 2018

for my dear friend

Sometimes I dream that you die. I lie, I just did it the other night, after you wanted to kill yourself. I would like to tell you that when I found out: I wanted to fill myself with tears, And scream in the mode of a TV novella performance. but no, it was not like that, the truth is that I was sitting thinking about the road trip we never made, the oils that were left pending, in life where we could not find each other anymore. I wanted to die but instead I only woke up for seconds, soon returning to sleep. Recovering knowledge was my way of escaping, of committing suicide from a dream. I went back to sleep and I do not know what happened but, when I woke up, I wanted you to be with me, drunk or with a hangover, and a little bottle of alcohol, which we could mix into our coffees, walk, cry and laugh at the stupidity of the previous night. Digest breakfast first, then dream. The internet now is the scene full of flashbacks, sad songs, and people walking out of their houses walkin