still remember the first bradbury words that went into my soul.
it was a book about burning books (in the future).
a pure revolution in the making.
erudite explosion like a volcano out of control.
a dark carnival.
oh so much texture.
like sound and vision.
u were the teacher.
i was the student.
from that moment on, i started collecting all that you have even written.
every collection of short stories.
like a hungry vampire hunting for fresh blood.
collecting. reading. writing.
my own literary creations enhanced by your everlasting talent.
zen in the writing.
at last, my life had a meaning.
and then, on june 5, 2012,
while I was still listening to the echoes of your ground-breaking career,
your voice went mute.
and sadly, the word empire that u provided structure for,
that u have once built for us, apostles, with your own tears, blood and sweat,
should never ever be the same again…
another black day without you.
i dream of the day that I will finally meet with u in the afterlife.
Warm Leatherette / The Normal
Labels: Another Black Day