Четверг 10 Янв 2008, 5:52

Disregard the Alkaline Trio please. I am in pain and can't get myself to listen to anything emoer.
I open this very first blog on a sad note, mourning the death of one of my dearest friends. Maestro, you taught me a lot of what i know about music. And now you're gone forever. I'm sorry, I did everything I could. And I let you down.

I remember how we met. You had just come from Japan on the same flight with my parents and they gave you a ride. They inviter you in, they introduced us and i knew then and there that we were going to become good friends. From that moment on, we were inseparable.

I still remember as if it were yesterday, the good, blistering hot, days of summer. The sunset in Santorini from atop the cliffs, winds blowing in my hair. I had just bought you a portable stereo to drive away the boredom and we were listening to Frederic Chopin's Nocturnes. I was drinking a glass of wine, you were humming along. We watched the sun go down. We started singing Georges Brassens chansonettes. Then we watched a crappy movie and we slept next to each other. My soul is dead without you.

Was it hubris? I can't understand what happened, things were going so well. I learned so much about you, we started spending a lot of time together once again and I was feeling so Narf damn proud of getting you on Last.fm. And the day started so well… We listened to Traveling Wilburys and we laughed and sang. You helped me finish my Economics project. By the end of the day you were dead.

I should have known something was wrong, i should have seen you fall, I should have been there for you. I tried to bring you back, i tried every possible way ,even drop kicked you, painful as that was. But you're dead now, a vegetable, alive but not living. Not thinking, singing , making me happy.

I loved you with all my heart but i can't shake the feeling that this is my fault. I sometimes thought of cheating on you, I admit it now, especially when I saw your younger sibling looking like a fresher, better version of you. But I shook it off, Maestro, cause we had something. SOmething special. I dreamed last night of caressing your white skin, of running my fingers around your little "wheel" and i awoke crying. We had it good, Maestro, we did.

But i have to move on, and although i loathe your pretentious ass of a father, your fat, mildly retarded sister and your idiot brother i have to say that your big sister is HOT! I mean, 160 gigs? Daaaaaaaaannng, that's a rack. i am soooo tapping that for my birthday. But don't sweat it Maestro. When i get "intimate" with her i'll be Thinking about You.

Rest in Pieces, Maestro. Now where's that Apple Store?