The death and birth of something beautiful

An hotell cellar, graveyard candles and red roses outside and crosses covering the walls. Miri took my hand and led me into the dark night, into the light. We're all gonna die tonight she whispered and I didn't tell her that a young man, possibly high definetly drunk stopped me on the street. He asked me when I thought I was gonna die and I answered that Im hoping that death isn't to far away. Maybe in the end of the week? I stared at my worn out Manolos and tried to avoid looking in to his eyes. Then he said what Miri later repeated unknowingly. You're going to die tonight. We're all going to die tonight.

The cellar was packed, fashionistas and immortal artists, editors in chief and random bloggers who make their living by wearing cloths and posting pictures of their charade. A man in a black cape gave me a bottle of Moët and I started crying. I emptied my plugged veins in the eternal salvation that is darkness. The absence of light is more merciful than cocaine. The same man later gave me a black envelope with cash. Because you're strange and you're beautiful.

Are you afraid of something she asked and I told her that I can't stand this. If she leaves, much like everyone else has, I will die. Because you see

She grows inside of me by the second, by every step I come to be more dependent on her presence