Dejan and the diary Подписаться

Dejan, when I heard his name today, I was overcome with memories of a time that was very pleasant for me, and yet the memories had something that slowly faded. Something that time simply wiped away. I couldn't remember exactly what he looked like. How his face looked when he frowned and said something or he pulled on his cigarette until I saw the framed photo on my dresser that stood in the living room and I suddenly remembered him and the time. I remembered well his last words; "Go with the times, not with me and the past."