The urge to abandon everything, to have meaningful connections with people you truly care about. To experience everything and everyone in this mere, short life.

When I woke up, my feet were wind, so I needed to run. And my hands, just like plants, needed to grow. Almendra has a song about that.

Responsibility - Overwhelming and cold. But I think it is in fact, better than something underwhelming, right? After all, if we are all going to die, it better be in a chaotic, overwhelming, memorable, and even lustful state. To lust to the eyes of death and still not surrender to the worms. To still be human enough to never - NEVER - abandon our essence, the uncontrollable rebel soul that rules us all, but many were able to silence it.

Yes, it was you - The untamed voice in my head who made me be as I am. Who makes me write in a manic state over and over again. It was you, who made me experience the wonders of the world: treason, drugs, art, pain, lust, pride, money, wires, and lights. Hundreds - maybe thousands of lights, blinding us of everything we ever deemed important.

Yes, it was you - who made me throw up so fucking much, in the middle of the street, at the skate park, after having so much vodka I could even stand.

Yes, it was you - who made me take my credit card and make a line, make a straw with a 100 bucks bill, and snort white dust. Funny how money and drugs are always related. Yeah, I'm never doing that again. But it is human to be curious, and to fail miserably.

Yes, it was you - who made me take the decision of doing something I will never be able to forgive myself. Something I'll have to lie my way out for my entire life. But I will never repent that sin, for it was so beautiful and important to me.

Or was it me?

It was me, right?

Being alone would hurt so much.

I am so afraid.

I am so terrified of not being reminded.

Scared of growing old and not feeling like I lived the life I would like to.

Watching the years pass by, on a computed desk, working to pay the government and the market.

I know for sure I will forget those regular days.

But I will never forget the night I saw her in that night dress for the first time. My eyes were filled with hope and love. But I'm guessing that you'd rather just forget it.

I will never forget the 1000 times I failed with you. I'm such a jerk, right?

I will never forget the nights I was intoxicated, with anything I could put my hands on, fighting the world with some of the most memorable people I could find. True brothers, united for the circumstance.

The nights I knew people, that just like me, exhaled youth. True adolescents, with true passions and strong feelings, that no one can comprehend. I wish we could be that special for all our lives. But we need to share the spotlights with the others, right?

That's why, 2025 is so confusing to me.

I should be responsible and get my life in order. But I should also live and enjoy this short and punitive life.

Nobody fucking reads this shit anyway. Not even my friends, family, or girlfriend. I'm fucking stupid and alone.

Made with love,

Stoots.