This is not gonna be the best night in my life.
Some moments, some things, just send chills down one's spine - there is a moral to the story.
Not for the faint of heart.
But where do I put such story? In my otherwise light hearted blog?
Do I keep it screaming in my head all through the night?
Can anyone benefit from such a story? Probably yeah.
It all began with a normal phone call,
quote:
Bloke : .. and btw Mauro, what happened to J.Doe really made me think.
Me: What's up with him?
...
Bloke : Oh, you don't know?
Me : What? What happened?
Bloke : He commited suicide. His parents found him half eaten by rats down the basement, he had been there for days.
His dad keeps describing the horrific details. That was months ago.
*life stopped for a few moments, I tried to keep a conversation, but it had really thrown me off.*
*I pondered my past with drugs : John Doe was a hippie couple's only son. A reseller. A guy with low self confidence
and issues for certain. A bright guy - BRIGHT - met him in high school. Sensitive at that.
...But when he got kicked off from high school, he did what he knew was *kewl* : pot a lot,
and generally doing the minimum, hanging around, etc. His parents were gold at heart.
...
I was a customer, and a friend, tried to get him to go OUT and live his life.
Tried to show him, tried to telll him, tried to fight the battle with him.
Crack came into play, and we parted ways. Slowly, but more, and more, and more.
He had developed a deep attachment to me, but at some point...
When he was starting to get high on even more dangerous stuff, and paying regular
visits to the insane ward - that's a time I took a major step back. Life was getting different for me,
time to settle, time to focus on a more rewarding career, time to move on for real.
I remember sending him that sms, harshly telling him "you were a friend when you were a human being, now
I don't know if you're gonna try to kill me in a minute."
*
I remember cutting that tie - as I cut many ties with weaker people,
in the process of getting stronger myself. Sometimes I wish my life was anything else.
I wish I was inventing those stories to amuse Jestaz.
I wish I could look his parents in the face and tell them I am sorry. For what? I am one more
of the dreaded former customers, one more nail in the coffin to them.
I wish I would not be the guy who crosses those storms and sticks around to remember and tell.
But I remember everything. I remember the day the whole world went away,
like it was today. It is today.. again.
R.I.P fab.
posted 02-15-2008 23:20
(cannot say anything else - mind is somewhere else now, thread posting time was shock time. Thanks Blaise, sorry crowd).