Joyless

Joyless

     When do we want to end things? End love. End ambitions. End life. We end things when there is no more joy left in it. Hard to be alive with no joy. When was the last time I felt joy? Hell, I’m no storyteller, but I haven’t felt joy in some time, that why I’m putting this out for you (if there is a you), maybe someone will get use of my story.

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     Work, go home and sleep. That was my life for the longest time. I didn’t mind it because that’s how things were. Simple. Easy, even. I liked easy and enjoyed a simple life that I could control. I needed something to give me some kind of feeling, so, I started using drugs. Smoked a little pot at first, it was nice, but got old quick. Bumped up to doing bumps of coke, that held me for a while. Lived for a few months on coke and women until that got old. What did I move onto you ask?! Well, let me tell you, that’s why I’m here anyways. I moved onto heroin. I needed something to make me NOT feel something. I was tired by this point. I was ready to end it when Jessica told me to clean up. She wanted a life together.

     “Clean up, baby. My aunt died and gave me all her shit. We can go live at her place in Cali. You need to be clean before I invest any time into you. Will you do it?” Jessica said.

     I told her I would. Fuck, I tried, but this shit is hard to kick. It’s not fucking baby aspirin. I ended up talking her into selling everything to fuel my drug addiction. She killed herself a few months later. I was too fucked up to even care. We had been living on the streets when Jess died. She never touched the shit but loved me enough to give everything she had, even her life. I just moved onto the next without even a second thought.

     I eventually did get clean, not by choice, but by a lengthy prison sentence. I guess you can’t beat a guy to death over a needle without some repercussions. After 6 years in prison, I was good. Well, as good as I could get. Prison changes you. Not for the better either. I left there with thoughts in my head I wouldn’t even think otherwise. I had to start over and nowhere to start. I was completely and utterly alone in life. Not one soul wanted shit to do with me. I can’t blame them. I got a job in a kitchen making food for the homeless. I could relate. I was there once, shit, I was there with them even then. Sometimes I’d be in the line after my shift for the shit I just made. I was stuck for a while until I landed a decent job and got a little place. Then things went back to where they were before I even started drugs. Work, go home and sleep. That was my life once again and I HAD to be okay with it. I just needed someone to share that with. I did find someone but she hung herself in my closet one day while I was at work. I was gone for 14 hours, came home and found her. I spent days at the Police Station trying to tell them what happen, but when you’re an ex con they don’t listen too carefully. I got home and found out I got fired for missing so much work.

     So, here I am. Looking at the same rope she hung herself with. It looks comfortable. I think I’ll give it a go and see what comes from it. There’s nothing for me here anymore. I’m ready for things to end. Without joy, without love, life isn’t worth shit. I never been worth shit. Just took what I needed and let go.

The End