the pone call

For her, it was just another sunday. i still can't understand why she didn't pick up the phone.

I used to believe that life is just a composition, like an opera, love tragedy, comedy, everything on it, with an addictive rythm in the background.

I wanted to believe that every moment has to be lived as the last one, that you couldn't miss any part of the song.

But that sunday it just seemed as if the song was coming to an end, or a long silence, nothing happened.

Was i alive at all ? I went outside to have a cigarrette and icontemplate the buildings flashing like an old christmas tree. No signs of life.

Only the nicotine going ndown my veins seemed to be alive. ironic, you keep living while enjoyinf little breaths of death, until one day is the last breath.

I wonder if i am going to enjoy it as much as today.


Back inside i kept feeling empty, i haven't talk to anyone for almost a week, I think i am starting to talk to myself these days. you know, just to hear some human voices, but you can get easily bored listening yo yourself, you always know what you are going to reply or at least, you cannot be surprised.

That's what i needed, a surprise, something new to turn my clockwork running again.

That's why i decided to call her, but she didn't answer!, so i wondered again " am i dead ?".

30 seconds after, the screen of my mobile was flashing, i couldn't answer, i didn't wanted to talk anymore. t was enough to know that she heard my call. That someone, at least for a moment, stoped one second of his life and thought of me.

It's feels good to prove your own existance, but now i just want to go back to sleep, i will be wondering why she didn't picked up the phone.

it was a normal sunday for her, not for me. I will call again next week

Ivan.