He came, playing the pose of rich boy, telling me that he will fly to Germany, to a gothic festival, and to another place, but he don’t know where yet. He came, and he go. I still remember him. I remember him some years ago, he had nothing, he was a total waste. We were equal. Now he have a good job, a girlfriend, he fly. Me, I’m still playing the poor. What can I say ? In a place I envy him, but he don’t know what is to pay the rent, and to work 7 days a week, and that the money that you made is just not nearly enough. But he knew, he was like me. Now we are in different places, we live different worlds. But we are still friends. I’m proud of him, that he found the exit door off the shit. Yeah, I’m proud of him. Yeah … what ?