There was I. Let’s say, just someone standing in front of an
old record store, with a long jacket despite the crescent heat in somehow the
fake winter in the city.
So, back, there i was, looking at the glass pane. I felt
sad. I was lost. Where would i find me, but here, with the music i always took
as my refuge? However, something was missing. It was you. An unknown whom i
perhaps would never meet, a reminescence of my past life, maybe? I always think
i was some kind of hippie and od’ed at a concert somewhere in 1975. And there
you were. And i will never know you, but i know you know me. And that you can
read this. Across the universe, when i die, i can get to see you. I wish you
were here, it’s never been the same since my fourteens. I lost the tea and the
candles, and jack daniel’s with black and white grained pictures, and rimbaud
teasing my heart on the sleepless nights. So young. I am so scared, stranger. I
am so scared to fall. To lose again. To lose myself and never be able to find
the road back. I want to play, i want to sing. here i am, doing all that, but i
lack you. Come back. I need you, even if i can’t see you. I feel the demons
there, waiting. I am so scared. Sing softly to me. Play me my song. I want to
touch the soft sun light, sitting on the grass, as we always did. Why did you
go? Did i go away? When i panicked in the forest, i felt you release my hand.
And i felt scared for the first time in ages. And i died.