Whoever knows me for a while (doesn't really matter how long, but just long enough for you to know me) has the complete notion that the thing I care most about in my life are my friends (a.k.a. people I love, care about, worry about, never regret spending time with, and all the other corny concepts you can think of).

Whenever one of them is not well, I tend have this terrible feeling of impotency, as if helping them in any possible way is out of my reach. Even when I can help I feel as if I could have done so much more and that bugs me like hell. Seriously.

The last time I felt really bad about it was about three months ago, when most of my friends were in some kind of crisis, from which I was dying to be able to help them out. And now it happens yet again. I don't really know who threw the first rock, but it turned into a bloody avalanche, which today I think has reached its climax, when I saw one of my strongest (or at least I consider so) friends falter.

I just want to tell all of you that have been through some really fucked up situations lately that if there is anything I can do, just yell and I'll come running and try to do my best. Even if that means paying the whole Banana Split at Habib's on a Friday afternoon; renting all the Tarantino movies and drooling over Gogo; staying with you at the line of the Lottery for two hours to recharge a bus pass; going out for a beer even if I don't have much time; staying home all day with you and laughing under the sheets; saving all the threads and important links for you and hijacking your Live Journal; letting you sleep on The White Blue Couch; stealing the rings of Saturn; buying you a Violin and telling you to come live with me here in São Paulo at once; finding you a job in this city; telling you, all of you, that it will be ok.

I'm here. Always. And don't you guys dare forgetting about that.

"So no one told you life was going to be this way..." - I'll be there for you, by The Rembrants.