I write this article in english because… I don’t like to be the sneaky bastard and write about people who I know don’t even read this blog, but if they ever ended up here, they wouldn’t  be able to tell they’re involved in this little piece of text.

It’s a needless act of respect. I’m sorry for my readers who “can’t english”, I’ll switch back next article.

Today I was thinking… no, I was listening to songs I didn’t listen in a while.

It’s not because I stopped liking them, but I knew they would have reminded me of what they effectively reminded me today.

There’s a side of me so deeply unexplainable, especially to very rational people, that I used to think nobody could really understand and share it. And then I met him, eyes so deeply sad and occasionally pissed, I saw him, and I never saw him. Met him, and never met him.

I’m not making sense, am I?

Oh he was so different from me, so fixated over things I couldn’t even bother thinking about, with a good reason I understood, but didn’t share. He had this whole little colorful yet muted-color-ful? world, aura, sensation about him. Something forcibly vintage, yet very fashionable and smart.

And the strongest, sharpest, yet funniest and secretly most caring personality ever.

A professional mood-swinger, always so passionate in what he used to like, think, feel. – He still is I guess, he’s not dead huh.

While I… I am mostly black and purple like a cheap goth teenager in the body of a grumpy lazy teacher tired of all the jackassery she met in her life, with an empty wardrobe and a set of pencils she never manages to master the use of, who wishes she was born a man.

Always so low energy, always so low-key. Always so depressed. Always so tired.

Opposites, one might think, but that wasn’t really true. For a short while, we shared a world, and it was fucking awesome. So fucking awesome reality kind of sucked in comparison, especially the reality we were deeply sinking into when we first met.

All about him felt weirdly familiar, and it never stops feeling so. Familiar in a… an almost supernatural point of view. It felt like we really lived these moments, even though we only were in front of a screen.

A world where you can share songs that don’t suck. Ahahaahha, it’s not so simple. I really link some of those to him, because they “feel” like him.

And although kind of melancholic, it feels good to listen again. It’s like I am still in one of these moments, where every morning at the same hour, we were there for each other.

I wish I wasn’t so emotional about it I had to stop.

But how can anyone NOT be emotional about a bond that feels so strong?

I only wish he was in my life, something feels wrong about him being so distant. We probably would have snobbed each other ahahaha. Or maybe not. Maybe we would have met-and-not-met… and then really met because we would have been in the same country or something.

We didn’t even need to speak the same language, something kind of already did. I don’t know how to describe it.

And then the song stops, and it’s like I turned off my chat again.

I miss him, I do.

Nobody anywhere is ever like him. Truly. I wonder if he realizes how special he is, not only in a “weirdo” way ahahah

Whatever. Real life, on. I must prepare.


Informazioni su Keishiro Yukikaze

Just your regular twisted egomaniac
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