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| R.I.P. |
Yesterday I went to my father's funeral.
It was a cold and foggy day, and I felt like the freezing wind of january was wrapping my soul.
I've been standing far from the rest of the family, back of the church, and I've heard people whispering my name, asking why I wasn't in front of the altar, near the coffin.
I hate people sometimes.
And I can't believe he's gone.
That man meant pain to me, he did nothing for me and I've hated him for years, but even if he has been a son of bitch a part of him was inside me, and now it's dead, it's been buried with his remains.
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