It wasn't too long ago, I was riding the El with no place to go and a pocket full of free money. Things really haven't changed that much. Seasons diminish, then move on. The trees in the backyard wither then reload. Children grow older, different people mildly disperse throughout renovated public transit stations. Different sport franchises win the same championships, etc.
I was an adolescent youngster once, peering out onto urban concrete walkways on Sunday afternoons, amidst the quaint, silent, sleeping city.
I was a middle aged suburban trophy housewife once hooked on Valiums, getting lost in Supermarkets, it ended badly.
Once I was a retired man in his early '60s, with heart palpitations. I kept my heart pills handy in case another episode was to arise. Avoiding sodium, sex, and prime-time television. My wife kept leaving her fashion magazines sordidly scattered round our poorly decorated household. I told my psychiatrist about how they aroused me, she doesn't leave her magazines around anymore.
Once I was a confused young man in his early twenties, I thought I knew everything. I was into desire, lust, fantasy, unfathomable ideals, and crazed imagination. I wanted everything but did not want to work. My girlfriend and I saved our hard earned money and took a two week Summer vacation to Aruba. Needless to say we had an awful time. By the third day we were mercilessly hung over throwing up house tequila and sea salt rimmed margaritas. On a cruise way out into the vast Atlantic, on the fourth day I took our six-disc C.D. changer and whirled it overboard out into the deep unforgiving ocean. Living with acquired disbelief in what most people "claim to be important", is not very beneficial when residing among the masses.
In the long felt Summer days of "white russians" by bedside, waking up on the fourth story apartment building floor was my underlying theme. Onto the neighborhood diner, then the dollar store was the weekend routine. I somehow managed to drag a few people down with me in my young adult years temporarily, they'd always move on. I was the type of guy who showed up for work drunk, then quit. After about a week I'd be back at your restaurant begging for work.
The past few years of drifting exasperated me beyond condolences. I haven't lived anywhere permanently since I can remember. It starts to Fuck with you after awhile. I miss the free money, quack doctors, and connections I used to have. Yearning for freedom I possessed in younger years. The kids these days don't understand what it is to be free. It isn't good to value "things" too much, or be afraid of people. I've been through this process more times than I would like to admit. Jail, crack-houses,shooting galleries, planned parenthood, bodegas on Kensington Ave., massage parlors, homeless in the city,cheap hotels, abandoned warehouses, dive bars, strip malls, psychiatric hospitals , rehabs, the list goes on endlessly.
What I'm trying to say isn't of use to people, it is just me writing for the sake of it. It is what I like to do, then if you don't like it, don't read it, and for god sake don't take my advise. Leave it where you found it, on the doorstop of resignation, meanwhile I'll be out walking these streets in search of something I'll only find in books and lucid dreaming.
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