We All Die Young

I sat on the floor of the room wearing just my black jeans, I leaned my backs on the couch stained in wine while I was remembering a hooker that I'd kissed in my dream of this night – I've never kissed a such yummy mouth –     coming back to my senses I took a sip of beer and started playing some songs of Johnny Cash on my mother's old acoustic guitar.

Shortly after leaving home when I was young and throw myself on the road of destiny and luck I stayed some time at the house of an uncle of mine, there I was gifted by a relic that long ago had belonged to my mother, an old acoustic guitar when she was the same age that I am until that moment, on that same day I went to live on the suburb of the city. 

The days were passing and I was spending my hours without knowing very much what to do, playing some songs I knew: country, blues, hard... At that point my cash was at the end, so I decided to go to the beach promenade and play some songs to the foreigners and local curious people.

For about three or more months, I don't know, I played those songs that made me have that orgasm within the feelings and travel to that other world out of reality, every night I returned with a good cash, certain night I was invited to play in the evenings of a few bars, some of them stank of bourgeoisie and others which it was only possible to feel the aroma of sex and cheap whiskey, the beverage I was always able to drink as a bonus, I came back home drunk and maybe with a bit of satisfaction.

Certain night the house crowded and I stoned of acid, I went up to the stage to play the country songs I liked. The people were all talking loud and I closed my eyes to try to listen to the sound of the acoustic guitar, the anger was consuming me, I dropped the acoustic guitar and fell on the piano beside in an attempt of calming myself I took out the shirt I was wearing and wore only the jacket, I straightened my hairs to behind and the music flowed on my fingers – when I was a child I learned to play the piano but I put that aside, it's been some months since I returned playing –, “Home Sweet Home” of Mötley Crüe, in the chorus I dropped aside the piano and grabbed the guitar with the hate I was feeling and the tone that was coming out of my voice was aggressive, suddenly three guys jumped on the stage and took the drums, the bass guitar and another guitar. At the end of the music some people stood up and clapped, I kind of ecstatic by that moment – and by the acid of course – I got lost amid the screaming, I met the craziest guys that life could offer on that day, from there is another story.

This old acoustic guitar which nowadays I keep with all my heart has inspired what one day I used to be... I gave a time, who knows another day... Perhaps I'll move to another place...