I died on January 10th 2011

I remember I wrote that sentence on a piece of paper on the day of my birthday: "I died on January 10th 2011".

I might die again soon, or... I might finally live again. I have been in a state between life and death all this time. Maybe I am like a cat, with 7 lives. And I actually feel pain for cats if they feel the same pain I do when they die, when they say goodbye to life.

Everything starts to loose its meaning all of a sudden, everything becomes fade, almost erased. and then... a sad blues song starts playing in the background of your life, with a bitter taste, almost like a strong cheap Tequila and lemon in a dark lost motel at the end of the world. And words repeat in your ear, things you said, things you heard... The story just keeps repeating itself again and again, even if I've never pushed the shuffle button.

I wonder if we always remember why we used to love someone or not... Does time erase it all and only keeps burning memories? Or is it simple brain chemistry that rather chooses for us to feel stupid than sad and regretful? They always say that time heals everything. I am still waiting, so Time, please decide already, because I am tired of waiting for you and for your blessing. Decide my fate already because I am loosing all faith... I gave up even the idea that we build our own destiny... whatever, just decide for me, because I am exhausted.

If I die again soon, then that would be the end. Unless, like in movies, when all hope is gone, when all colours turn to black and white... then a hero comes, saves the day. I have no faith in heroes, I am only used to anti-heroes, as sad and miserable as I am. So, Time, Faite, Sad Hero, I am waiting for you.