Satanic stories, black magic & love

The days this week had become unbearable. I had just lost one of my biggest clients, and no one seemed to empathize with my loss. One of my best friends, who was fired from his job in April this year, told me that his psychologist said that losing one's job is equivalent to the feeling you get when you lose someone. Mourning, that's the feeling. Yet, nobody seemed to care about my losing a client. Everyone was like: "Cheer up, everything will be alright." I had also recently lost my dad. We weren't that close, but it was something I did not expect to happen when it did. And this is not me just complaining. I had been a man who had shown quite a bit of resilience, and despite the darkness, I kept pushing forward. But maybe my age had worn me down a bit. I just needed to halt for a bit and be acknowledged, but not so much to look weak. What the hell was happening to me? I didn't know what I was supposed to do and how I was supposed to react to all this shit that...

I had had a terrible week. It was one of those long spells of bad luck, as my dearly departed mother used to say. Nothing seemed to go right. Everything I tried went terribly wrong. The lousy weather waited for me to go out to start pouring. The trams were delayed. The food in my fridge would rot faster than usual. Everything was a fucking mess. And there was nothing I could do. All I could do was wait until the spell of shit would break and disappear. I was going home after work. Of course, I would miss the tram home and would have to wait for an extra set of 15 minutes in the rain. At least the fog made all the scenery more interesting. I was one who would try to look at the positive side of things, no matter how crappy things were, I would always find something to smile at and about. My phone lit with notifications coming. My bank account had rejected my Amazon payments. Spotify had also been rejected. I couldn't listen to music while going home. Fuck!, This is too much! I thoug...

I had been here for over 15 years. I felt like a member of the people here. I knew their habits and flaws like the back of my hand. I always knew that this was my happy place. I mean, I knew it the minute I understood their humor. And I had also bowed not to move until I had tried everything that a country has to offer. The culture, their hobbies, and their food.  And it's not that I conformed, this place grew on me and I stayed. As simple as that. Yet, there were many things that I hadn't been able to achieve. And one of those things was, to have a real friend. I knew many people. Yet, it never came close to what I had with my best friends, who of course, I met when I was in High School. Nothing ever came close to that. No matter how hard I tried. And this made me feel defeated at times. I couldn't shake the feeling of not being able to make a real friend in 15 years. I had tried hanging out with my colleagues. I had tried hanging out with my clients. I had tried hanging o...

It was my birthday, and I met you a couple of days after. You were a kitten, a newborn kitten. Still blind and still not ready for life. Still new to this world. Still not ready for what life brings. You were my baby. My baby girl. Pelucha was your name. A fitting name for a girl like you. Fluffly and lively. Full of life and never ready to surrender to the boring days. Your smile would make everyone forget about their heavy baggage. They would forget about their problems, and their bad times would dissipate in the thin air of the afternoon. You had the most distinctive smile from every other cat I had ever had. You were my daughter. I had rescued you from week 2 and you knew it. It was such an amazing time with you by my side. Stress and problematic times would disappear with just a look into your yellow eyes.  I was always drawn to your purity and innocence. To your charisma and to your friendship. You were my best friend in my darkest moments. I would cry my heart out and you wo...

 It was 8:35pm and I was walking home. It was a normal Friday after work. I had had a good day. It all went smoothly and there was nothing that had disrupted my hard-earned calm and peace of mind. The wind blew gently yet with enough strength to keep the heatwaves of summer away from my sun-ridded skin. I kept a slow pace as I had decided to take it slow. Nobody was waiting for me at home. Except for the cats that were probably angry I wasn't coming home on time for dinner. Their dinner. Not mine. I think even though they showed their affection towards me, they couldn't care less if I ate anything for dinner or not. It was their nature, and I respected it. They were there for me when I was down and blue. They were there for my happy birthdays and for the uneventful dates. In return, I tried to keep their feeding schedule tight. Their water is fresh and their toilets shit-free. I didn't always deliver, as I sometimes would hit the bar near my office for a beer or two before ...

 It was one of those nights when the snow falls so hard the darkness turns white. Snowflakes gently crashing down and colliding in such a violent fashion. There was an ambiguity to it that made the cruel winter seem lovely. It was 8:05pm and I already had 2 beers down my throat. I had had a tough week and I was tired. I was tired of everything and everyone around me. Judging me, patronizing me, and thinking they knew better than I could ever do. For me, it was natural selection, I had come to understand why people leave. It was the best explanation I could have come up with. Why do they always leave? Or should I say: why do the good ones stay? It is always a matter of how you see things. You can be like my parents, fatalistic, and believe everything is up to destiny. Poor destiny. All the lies and the heartache that is credited to fate. If only destiny could refute these claims and shut them all up, life would be a different story. You could see all the good in things and people. L...