About P.
 (or a toast to the past that shall remain in the past. May only the good memories be saved!)

 That's all I remember: the both of us in your bedroom, stoned, drunk, tired, everything around us so smoky and slightly sufocating. But a little spot of honest and shiny cheerfullness inside each one of us. 

All around was too luminous, rounding and rounding, a feeling of nonsense and almost phisic pleasure. But always almost: bodies too broken to feel the pleasure itself. We laid down on the carpet and all the pillows, distant church bells ringing, dirty smell of dust seemed so unreal. I said how amazing it would be if we were exactly in the middle of nowhere: a camp with grass completely empty and everything above would be stars. You got up and turned off all the lights, came back to me then: the bedroom became just as I wished: stickers in shape of stars, planets, constelations and moon were glued on the walls and roof.

Amazing feeling of magic, as if it could just exist. A very refreshing and cold breeze coming in from the big window closed together our hands and bodies. I could see you even surrounded in total darkness. Sleep and sleep for hours and dream the same nightmares. 

So many shits and all I can remember is this. I'll always love you,even knowing you left me when I nedded you to death, and I was always there in your ups and downs with drugs and alcohol. Twin souls, twin thoughts, twin self-destructive minds. I wait, and you know that.