Growing old.

I can’t deal with death.

I guess it came from my mother. She never told me how she felt about death since late, but I think this things are genetical.

Today I literaly woke up crying. Desperate crying and I think this is how is going to be from today until the rest of my life while people keep on going away.

I cryed because I had a dream with my cousin that died in last june. It’s not a bad dream, it was a regular dream.

I dreamed he was already dead and I was seeing a vídeo of his own good bye party at his house. Some how he knew he was going to die and diceded not just give a party  but videotape it to us. He and some of his best friends were tehre and decided to literaly break everything down. It wasn’t violent or had any drugs and stuff, i felt that it was simbolic.

Than, at the vídeo, I saw him and he was so real, so alive, so much noses and muscles and eyes and smiles. I feIt like I could touch him, as if I was there.

At the dream, he kept saying what in my mind is what he said his entire life (even if he never did say that, I stil think he did) he kept on saying “ Aproveita a vida!” and I put a “, Gi!” at the end of every phrase.

That was all my wake up today.


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