Wednesday, 27 June 2012

The Hardest Hours

I went out from work, and you were already dead. I was dazed, puzzled, out of my own mind... and I didn't even know about it. I just sat on my bike, started the engine, and rode off to the high peaks of the mountains.

There I stopped. Right in the same spot we had our last conversation, and I didn't know you were already dead. I enjoyed the afternoon and part of the evening reading, up in the peak of the mountain. The motorbike laid outside, waiting for us.

I expected to have talked much more, even though we've talked since we were three year old kids, we still have things to say... not to mention all the things yet to be done. Remember I wanted to show you a new road I discovered? I went there after my reading, and now I know you came there with me.

Shocking events when I returned to society, having the feeling that I was actually returning to society again. We have always preferred to be on the road, listening to rock and roll and having some beers, but you know that don't you?

Then I received a phone call that changed it all.

You can't bearly imagine how hard it was to have a shower and get dressed to attempt your funeral, my best friend. I already miss you brother, but nothing can be done. We all miss you really, but you know you and I were a different kind. Even harder to break into the shop to get you some flowers, and leaving them by your coffin was the most shocking moment in my whole fucking life...

But I understand it was you who took me up to the mountains, it was you who got me ready, and it is you who ride on my own bike when I'm riding.

May only dead put me down from a motorbike, as it has been the only thing to put you down. Rebels forever, brothers since the beginning of time.

R.I.P.
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