we were on cloud 9.
laughing in your face because this is madness at its purest form.
the improbable is the most beautiful.
my friend,i remember the photograph-wrinkled old days,streaming golden sunlight under white cloudswhere we sat on broken-down benches,staring at the future together. my friend, i remember the fights and the make-ups,the tears and the touch-ups,the fear and the happiness that consumed our lives,i remember everything. my friend,i found your shadow wandering around the district today,lost withContinue reading “my friend”