The real friends

Friends are people who keep on listening to your meaningless and tedious little dramas over and OVER again. Well yes, they are. They are people who are there to pick you up and scrap you from the pavement when you fell or got broken again.

I love my friends and, dear friends, this is my little tribute to you.

I was a sad little kid with no real friends. With mates aplenty but with no real bonds for most of my younger life. Then it all changed. I started to talk and to communicate with people. I started to trust and to believe. By now I am surrounded by an incredible bunch of guys who are there for me. The slightest crisis strikes and I get a panel of specialists advising me on my mind's and heart's problems. I can't even account for all the text-conferences which I summoned in the recent times. Litres of alcohol drunk late at night and words pouring uncontrollably from mouth to mouth. With questions shooting right and left and desperate inquiries for some guidance. That guidance I received. Not without bollocking, smacking me across face, holding my hand and all other relevant stuff.

The stories that lead us to this love are not straight (how could they be?) and often comprised of grand explosions and wars. I let down probably every single one of my dearests and with some I went through a real mayhem. But souls that speak to each other and see beyond the boundaries find solutions at the end.

I have friends to whom I didn't speak for days, weeks, years. I have friends that I feared and those that I laughed at. Paths of life are often unpredictable and unprecedented. I fucked up many times and they fucked up sometimes too. But here we are - brothers in arms, fighting our way through life and chaos.

I make one promise - always to remember, always to strive for a better future, for a better now. Without you guys, I'd be just a big-headed trouble. With you, I'm special.