When we were Boys
Why the fuck were we fighting again? I don't know. I do not have any fucking idea why. And that, honest to God, is the truth. You may have asked me the question yesterday. You may ask me today. You may ask me tomorrow, the day after or the year after. My answer will remain the same – I don’t know. I really do not know. We just did it. Maybe it was just written somewhere in the stars that we had to exchange blows and pretty much every dangerous weapon we could get our hands on every time we met as two gangs in the grazing lands. I don’t know why we always engaged in our own mini-version of the Waterloo Battle – only our battles were sporadic and never seemed to come to an undisputed conclusion – whenever we met while looking after our cattle at the pastures. All I knew was, there was a this village that shared our border due South, and for some reason every young male offspring from this village was an enemy whose life we were supposed to make a living hell whenever w