Wednesday, 17 January 2018


I forgot your birthday yet again. I've forgotten now nine times out of ten. It's a mystery how we've even managed to remain friends. I can't even remember your middle name now and then. I turn the tv on and I see Harold and Lou, they're making music together, just like good bros should do. Harold is playing tuba and Lou is on the castanets, they're celebrating friendship, not mulling on regrets. Shouldn't we have a chance to do the same? Shouldn't we too be celebrating? But it seems we can't. For I am always failing.