Tortures of the damned

13/2-09

Today, I visited a city I haven't seen in years. I stepped off the train and realized this was the exact platform I once waited for my friends on a long time ago. I was shocked, choked on the smoke in my lungs as the memories came flooding back. Suddenly I was 14 again. Suddenly I wasn't going home, I was 14 and running away from home. It's been six very long years but I remember the days in this city so clear, like it was yesterday. Does that mean I haven't changed? I'd like to believe I have because I wasn't very happy back then. Am I happy now? I know the friends have changed and that they're not friends anymore. If we met on the street I doubt they'd recognize me. I wonder if I would recognize myself.