The day the motherfucker died

motherfucker

The day the motherfucker died, was the morning I was detoxing from Xanax. Things weren’t going smoothly in my life, and that fucking pill helped me with my sleep. I had chest pain, anxiety and of course my old friend depression. I say detoxing, not because I used to take a lot in the past or the night before, but because my body couldn’t treat just ONE pill very softly. It rendered me almost catatonic and what not.

After a couple of hours, weirdly enough, I was pretty fresh and the news that Andrei Gheorghe died… did not came as a shock honestly. I don’t know why is that, but I was kinda expecting it. That more and more values leave this place, sickened and disgusted. I remember that I was in fourth grade, and I used to skip class 15 minutes early so I can get home on time to listen to his radio show called „13-14 cu Andrei”. The topics of the show were always interesting, always had something to do with the lives of our citizens, the hardship of it all and it always touched the human condition of empathy. So, this guy managed to attack a topic in such a manner that even a stupid kid like me could understand. That was some next level shit. Nowadays, politicians talk in such carefully picked words and idioms that most of the people can’t understand what the fuck is going on. To some is clear that they are just trying to hide some stuff, and by the point we figure shit out, they come along with something else. It’s really hard keeping up with this.

So, the thing is that we have no idea of the value this man had. Only a few can truly understand the words this guy was splashing „on air” .

Today I met with a woman, with which let’s say I used to spend some nights talking on topics that we considered as nonconformist. She was wearing a black dress. I liked that. Another friend of mine updated her cover photo with something in his memory. My feed is full of stuff about this man.

So, this is my humble tribute to a man that made me skip school, only to stand by my radio in my house and listen. Listen to the voice of reason, a voice that shaped, in a way, the manner I look at things, a voice that gave me an inner voice.

„Bună, Andrei! Ești în aer”, this is the way he used to greet his listeners. Well, motherfucker, I hope you are in Heaven giving those self-righteous angels some Hell.

…Iar dacă te pui să comentezi aiurea că de ce e scris textul în engleză, îl las tot pe Andrei să îți răspundă: Ești prost, la revedere!

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