The Days Are Long But The Years Are Short, Just Live

As soon as I turned onto the corner of Riverdale road and Elmers it was like the smell of sewage smacked me dead in the face. It was so strong as if was wafting up from the manholes and blowing fog of putrid fragrance throughout the city. I get that Brooklyn is not known for its beauty or grace but couldn’t they at least figure out a better system so people could actually bear walking through these streets without holding their shirts over their nose for some release? I attempted to use my shirt as a shield but I’m not sure if the smell was worse or better than the sewage considering I’ve been wearing it for about 6 long days now, full of sweat and dirt in this summer heat, in the dead middle of July.  

I’m glad I at least made it to Brooklynn. Being able to walk around freely and at the very least stretch my legs and back out, is a lot better than the first five days I spent hiding out in the small bunker my grandfather showed me in the forest near our house in Philly when I was just a boy. Little did I know back then that I would one day use that bunker to hide out from someone who was trying to take my head and put it on a platter. When some god-willing force of nature somehow gave me some of my courage back on the fifth day, I made my way out of the small bunker, fit for one (more like a child than an adult) and caught a train from Brewertown to Brooklynn. It was time to get the hell outta Philly. Let’s be honest though, I ran out of water and all I had to eat for four and a half days was two granola bars and a few meat sticks I grabbed from my bedside drawer before I was forced underground, unable to see the light of day for five days.  

To make a long story short, I got myself into a little bit of trouble with some not so good men, to say the least. No one’s fault but my own, I’ve been here, done this, I should have known better. I wanted to take a break from moving around so I ended up back in Philly, it was the one spot I didn’t want to taint with my bad name. It was the one place I felt most at home and most of the people I have done wrong in my days, were unaware of that. Now, I ruined that too and I won’t be going back there for a while, if at all.  

It’s not that I necessarily try to keep making poor choices, I don’t consider myself a bad guy really, but I can’t say that trouble finds me either, I mean, it’s not like I go look for it, but I also do nothing to try to avoid it.  

Once again, after my brother in law—ex brother in law I should say—was kind enough to send me to rehab for the second time, I made the not so smart decision to be on the other side of the drug deal, I wanted to sell like I used to before I got addicted. Heroin was my drug of choice and I knew how much money I spent a day on that stuff, let alone in a month so, I decided it would be a good idea to make myself some quick cash on the side of my full time gig at the new tattoo shop that my buddy just opened up and get myself on my feet again. I thought I would be stronger this time, I was ready to make the change. But, I injected more than I sold, had no money to pay it back. I had a month and a few days to pay it back but I got carried away. The plan was just to do a little bit to keep my morale up and keep me motivated. If you’ve ever been an addict, you know it doesn’t work this way and never will. I think deep down I knew too, but it was all right there and I was miserable and it was a quick fix. 

Now, I’m too coward to show my face. I worked with these sort of people before but these guys are different. They did not fuck around and I didn’t want to stick around to see what might happen to me. 

I’ve moved around my whole life, at 29, I am accustomed to the streets, unfamiliar places and people. I really had no one to go home to anymore in Philly anyway, Mom passed from an overdose six years back and Dad was never around. I mean, I had plenty of “Dad’s” just none of them were biologically related to me. I did have one half-brother, well I guess I still do.. but he is 12 years older than me and left Philly when I was still boy. He was the black sheep of the family, the only smart one who ran away when he should have. 

The one person I will miss is Lila, my friend from way back when we were in middle school. We’ve drifted over the years, once even went a full year without talking but I don’t think I’ll ever lose her altogether. We have a different type of love for each other but I don’t think it could ever go away. Even if I do annoy the hell out of her sometimes with my ongoing lies about changing my life around and doing better.   

Even if it wasn’t for the trouble I sometimes find myself in, I have realised over the years that as much as I sometimes dream of being content living in one place, with a stable life and routine, I don’t think I could do it. I’ve tried it and it went on for about three years before I felt like I was going to lose my mind. Can’t say that it’s about the dullness of it that almost drove me, it’s more so the nerves I have about missing out on something else, somewhere else. There is so much out there in this chaotic world, so many different cultures to explore, places to see, people to meet. Whenever I’m not out there exploring this gift we have been given and getting that rush in my stomach, goose bumps up my back, hair on my neck stand up or my heart pound, I feel like I’m failing to do what we were meant to do here, live. Life is not about a paycheck or proving yourself to anyone, in my opinion. I mean, to each their own but for me, it’s all about how on top of the world I feel when I am experiencing something wonderful.  

I never want to be in that rut that so many people find themselves in. The people who go through those mid-life crisis’s and go and fuck off to the mountains to search for some sense of peace, some wholeness, some answers to the insipid, nagging questions that spiral around their minds on the daily: am I doing enough? Am I doing it right? Should I have, could I have, why didn’t I, is it too late, why do I feel stuck? See, those are the kind of questions that drive me up the wall and back down again. We don’t have the answers. Is there some sort of purpose for us here? Probably. Maybe it’s just to reproduce and keep nature flowing the way it should. Maybe there is some grander purpose. But science is not going to tell us, neither are the philosophers. They can theorize and so can we. My theory is, live while you can. 

I don’t consider working a 9-5 job for years on end with the same get groceries after work, make dinner, clean up, do laundry, tend to the kids and pets routine, really living. Most people who do this for years grow miserable and it’s real unfortunate.  

So easy for us humans to claim that life is dull, and sometimes even meaningless but I don’t think we really have the right to say that. Life might feel dull and meaningless in that one little corner of the world. I guess that means it’s time to pick up and find meaning someplace else. I guess if you’re trying to run away from yourself you may find the path more difficult. In spite of the things we do, places we visit for a form of distraction, we can never really run away from ourselves and I can see how at times that may be a hard thing to bare.  

But life is short and there are things we cannot change.. things we cannot take back. There are parts of us that may be weird to others, or strange even but who cares? Me personally, I like weird. Conformity is boring but for the most part inescapable. We all follow something. All working towards some sort of goal or purpose, usually what we call ‘success.’ Or even if it’s working to stand out, we all follow some sort of guideline. And in spite of if we want to admit it or not: we are all a little weird. But there is a whole category of people who miss out on life by not allowing themselves to be weird enough. 

Now, I need to get out of my head for a moment because I feel like I’ve been walking for hours now and I still haven’t found a coffee shop. I must have passed a few while I was daydreaming. It’s been more like twenty minutes opposed to hours but man am I fiending. My phone has been dead for a couple days but I have gotten used to telling the time just by looking at where the sun is on the horizon. It’s going on 5 pm right now and I haven’t had a fix since I was in the bunker hours ago. I still have some of the H left in my backpack but I desperately need the money so, I’m doing my best to not take a hit every chance I get. I need to slowly wean myself off this garbage before I croak. I just need a damn coffee.  

I find a small diner a block down, use the washroom to clean myself up a little, order myself a slice of rhubarb pie and a dark roast coffee add expresso shot. I don’t think my queasy stomach can handle much more than that right now. Once I go so long without eating a proper meal, it makes it harder for me to do so. Now, I’m sitting in a small booth by the window and figured it’s time to make some sort of plan.  

When I was in the bunker I contacted Lila asking her for some money once again and she said she would wire it to me through my phone but until I am able to charge it I am unable to accept it. Once again I am in an unfamiliar city, with unfamiliar people and my biggest fear is losing myself. I like the man I have become despite my short-comings and addictions, I do believe I have a lot to offer people.  

I open up my backpack to try to scrounge around for the money I’ve threw in there. I have $370 left in cash which is more than enough to find me a little motel to seep in tonight if I choose to do so. I more so plan on spending the night learning the streets and trying to figure out the best place to sell so I can get my cash up a little more as well get rid of this devil of a drug before I inject it all into my veins. Which is all I want to do right now. The fiending, the craving, the aching, it’s too much to handle sometimes. That relief I get when that drug hits my bloodstream is like nothing I’ve ever felt. I would never recommend that quick shot of dopamine just for a form of happiness though, not to even my worst enemy. Once you can get that feeling so easy through some sort of substance, it’s hard to find it without it.  

I know I used to be happy without substances but when I look back it’s almost hard to believe at times. But I know I will figure it out, like I said there is so much life out there to live and I plan on living it. To take advantage of every moment I have while I have the chance to do so. The days are long but the years are short they say and I resonate with that more and more as each years passes. So, I plan to make each day as long as I can and try my best to enjoy every minute of it.  

I paid my bill and headed off to find myself a motel for the night, although I wouldn’t be spending much time in it, I decided it will be nice to have a place to put my things and some privacy for even a little bit and maybe a little nap. 

I settled on a small motel off Main street, a fairly busy area it seemed like. I took and short nap and now I’m ready to head out for the night. 

The night used to scare me as a child, I associated it with bad people and dark places. After all, it seemed that only bad things happened in the night. After I met Harry, an older man who lived in one of the trailer parks we lived in growing up, I was no longer afraid of what the night may bring. He taught me that it was essential to know the night.  

Night time is the hardest time to be alive, it knows all of our secrets. Some nights are made for reflection, the savoring of loneliness or even torture. It is when we really get to know ourselves. Plus, I could never hate the night anymore because without it, I couldn’t see the stars. The night sky is one of my favorite things in the world.  

I don’t know what my plan is or where I am even heading after today and I don’t know if the answers I am looking for or the feeling I crave is out there somewhere, but I do know I will never know if I don’t go out there and at least try searching for it. Maybe there is no definite answers but instead small reassurances to make us feel as if we’re doing okay, that we are figuring it out in the best way we know how. Maybe joy is not a destination or a person but instead we find it in doing the things that make us feel the most like us, the most at home. Maybe there is no definite purpose or some sort of level of success that will make us feel as if we made it, maybe we don’t have to follow any rule book and instead could be kinder to ourselves for making mistakes, give ourselves a break every once in a while because life to too short to dwell on all the what if’s and didn’t do’s.  

Who really knows? I don’t want to spend my life wondering and I definitely don’t want to spend my life waiting around for good to come my way. I am going to go out there and find the good and embrace every moment of every day.