There is some sadness in him. And I don't know why. And
sometimes I tell him: ''Cheer up, smile... You have a good
reason to do so.'' But already in my second word he is not
there. He's gone, thinking, imagining. One time I asked him
...what is he thinking about, and what is he running from
and where to, but all he said was that his thoughts don't
have a specific address. And I got mad 'cause I couldn't
understand what he meant. And he has pills. These very
small and red pills. And they are fighting what the doctor
refers to as ''the unthinkable anxiety syndrome''.
The pills he is taking with no water at all 'cause he says
it doesn't matter anyway. And he hopes that one day these
pills will get stuck down his throat and cut off the air
supply to his nonfunctioning brain and finish his sad story
already and I think it will be very ironic to die from
anti-depression pills.

And today he says that I have to go with him .So we are
,going to the graveyard. He is wondering between the graves
giving odd looks at the occasional tombstone, and I am right
behind him, collecting leftovers of his lost, broken and
forgotten thought, which he threw away so carelessly on the
dirty floor.
And then he stops next to a grave. The grave is medium
size, not too fancy or neglected, but something on the
tombstone makes me uncomfortable and I don't know what it
is. He touches the tombstone with an unsure hand and
smiles.
Now, I already know a lot of his bullshit stunts but still
.I shiver at the sight of the dark face he suddenly wears
It loses color and the eyes close just a little bit. He
looks down and the face again changes expression and I
imagine him as if he just came from the bottom of the
earth, after being in a fight with an ancient demon. Of
course he won. In spite of all his normal wining and
bitching, he always wins... Not even once did he lose to a
demon.
Like in a dream, where the characters can change their
faces and they're perfectly normal, he is suddenly talking
to me in a voice that is not his own. A little girl is now
,staring at me from where his head had been a second ago
(with the same dark eyes, same dark expression in his (her
face.
The shiver down my spine is getting worse. I hate it when
he does that. It's really hard to get used to.

So we have been hanging out together for some time now. If
I had to guess, I would say it started two years ago, or
maybe it was two weeks ago? I don't really know; ever since
the accident I have been losing track of time every now and
then. I wake up in the morning, not knowing whether I had
slept for an hour or a week. But then he would come and get
me out of this confusion with another story of his about the
way he was many years ago. In some of his childhood stories
I find something familiar, something I can relate to.

We exit the graveyard. He is back to his old self. Now he
will walk down the streets, and the people that will walk
next to him and in front of him will look right through
him, and this is the way it had always been. After all, he
is less than attractive.
And the wind will blow him away, and the sun will burn him
to the ground, and the rain will dissolve him, until
nothing is left of him but a memory of a human being. And
he will be at the mercies of the world. ''But it's ok'', he
...will tell me, ''This is not a big problem, this... this
,is not why I'm sad''. And he will swallow another pill
small, red, with no water, and he will not get choked
because of the pill. And he will not die, because irony
doesn't believe in him.

In the first few times it was a bit hard for me. Handling
him was something that wasn't that obvious and easy. He
would wake me up from a bad sleep and want me to hang out
,with him. And I don't even know what time it is. ''Come on
man... I don't know you! Don't bother me! I can't sleep as
it is, find someone else to pick on!''
But he never gave up. ''Lets go, man'', he would beg, ''You
.''!are the only one who can get the sadness out of me
Hopeless. It was hopeless for me.
But today, today I like him. We complete each other. When
he is down I'm up. When I'm down, well, he runs away. Some
symbioses that is...

Tonight everything is going to end'', he tells me one''
sunny day. Nothing is going to happen today, I am trying to
convince myself; after the accident I try not to take
anything too emotionally. ''Just one more time in the
cemetery!''. We go there. For some reason, in my car on the
way there, I can't see my reflection in the mirror.
We're walking between the tombstones, as usual, and I, as
usual, am collecting his bitten up thoughts from the
ground. In the fifth one I remember what he had told me
about them not having an address. ''No such thing'', I am
thinking and at the exact same moment hear him saying these
words out loud, in a familiar voice. Sounds a bit like
mine.
I ignore it and start examining the thoughts that are in my
hand. ''Ha! What is this? I found it! An address!'' I am
thinking to myself and again hear my voice coming out of
him, shouting the same thing out loud.
This address looks familiar; it's my home address, with
more details: ''First room on the left.'' ''Shit, that's my
.bed!'' he is creaming the thought that was right in my head
All of a sudden he disappears and all I see in front of me
is a grave, but in an opposite angle to what was there a
second ago. It's like from his eyes I am looking at where I
was just standing.

Ever since the accident I've been losing time. But now, I
have a feeling everything will be OK. I start walking again
between the graves and soon enough I find it. That specific
tombstone I was looking for. My name is written on the
stone, Carved in small letters.
And the writing says: ''Here lays the man who had sadness
in him''.

Now, I will be able to keep track of time. Not that it
...matters anymore