Act 1: Scene 3
The holding cell
I knew that an ending was on the way.
I knew the impending doom was moving too fast.

I remember being told that it is only by dying that one is awakened to eternal light.
And I remember being told that life comes with opportunities, and, so, when one door closes, another door opens.
Tragedies can lead us to the greatest comebacks, or so I was told.

I do not know about these things.
Or, maybe I know more than I think

Act 1: Scene 2
End of summer 1989 –
August was not what I assumed it was going to be

I don’t know what happened.
Then again, no one ever assumes that “this would be them,” or that the worst case would be the best case, and in my case to say the least, the worst was the best case scenario. I say this was the best case for me because had it not been for this moment; I might have not have been around to be this, your modest and humble narrator. I might not have survived or been around to tell a story about another tragic and somewhat eventful teenage life.

I found myself in the back of a squad car with handcuffs on my wrists. But please, allow me to explain.
I was sick to say the least. The junk in my veins was beginning to grow more important and so, the rules and the regulations of my habit were more concerning and certainly I realized why my habit was becoming more demanding.

Act 1: Scene 1

August, 1989, Archer Avenue across from the post office, two doors down from the numbers joint and four doors down from the methadone clinic.
Hot summer. Early morning.
Enter the sunlight. Enter the stage, dead center and in the middle of real life.
This was me and this was life as it was.
This is how everything was back then, of course

The previous night’s demons are scattered in tiny skeletons that proved our deaths with plastic vials, which have all been noted by the news and the media as an earlier epidemic that killed at different speeds.

The warm air is fading from the wind the same as the memories from last year grow more distant, just like how the Earth moves away from the sun when winter comes around.
New York City is about to see another season and I am about to undergo another change.
I know.

The world is a cyclical place. We have four seasons. We have our bouts. We have our moments of joy and pain. We have days in the sun, moments when it rains, and times when it snows.
We have mornings when the ground thaws during the first warmth in spring.
I love the differences between these seasons. And I love them all for different reasons.

My kingdom for a horse . . .
This comes from Shakespeare’s King Richard III when he said, “A horse, a horse. My kingdom for a horse.”

I suppose a horse would be of great use, or perhaps this might come at a greater expense. But more, I suppose wealth and cost is all relative when it comes to the different levels of supply and demand.
And yes. Of course!
I have my own demands, but perhaps now is not the time for to express them.

I think about myself and then of course, I think about my old and former self with the same and perhaps normal or  commonplace questions of “where have I been,” or “what the hell was I thinking?”

Maybe I should go back to that spot where healing is supposed to take place. Or maybe the special dirt that I collected did not take. Maybe I need to grab another sample from the blessed Earth behind the church in old El Chimayo or pray more, like I did that afternoon in the old chapel where I watched an old woman weep and her son wheel her chair to the nearest candle.
Maybe . . .
Maybe the answers I sought were not the answers I prayed for. Or maybe my requests were denied for reasons that did not present themselves until now.

There has to be a time when we say to hell with it. There has to be a time when we say life is life death is death and all we have is this moment. Understand?
All we have is this, which is right here and right now.
There has to come a time when enough is enough and so, now becomes the time to make a difference between the definition of what it means to live or die.
Living is far more than just existing
And dying alive is far worse than dying alone.

There is no more time to waste.
There is no more time to give in or to give up and there is no more room for excuses and doubts.

There was a big storm last night. The wind picked up and there were trees down on the street.
I can hear the wind and the rain are still blowing around but the storm has mostly passed and all that’s left are the remnants of a northeast storm that devastated the weekend.
I sit here now and I have my trusty companion with me.
Ah, thank God for trusty companions.
And no, this is not a person or an animal but instead, I have my cup of coffee which is what I needed this morning.
Or wait.
No.
I have other needs which do not need to be mentioned at this time.

I say the same thing all the time. I tell everyone if you don’t know, then you just don’t know.
And to act like you know or to insinuate that you do can be seen as an insult or counterproductive.
There is something to be said about the act and the process and the actual motions of going through something.
And I get it. Everything is subjective.
Everything is left open to interpretation and of course, fiction can become facts and facts can become fiction.
True things can be disagreed and be false and lies can become truths, at least from a personal standpoint.

We are fools at times. We are all subject to the deception of our own perception and in the case of us against life or me against me and I against I, there is a real world going on around me. There are so many things that I have not seen or experienced enough to understand and again, there are times when the fact remains.
If you don’t know, then you just don’t know.
And that’s okay . . .

I do not waste my time and tempt fate or dare the odds of my unforeseen destiny anymore.
At least, not like I used to.
I am too far gone now. I am far from the person I was and growing farther from the distant shadows that used to remind me of what took place on 3rd Avenue and 54th Street.
I am grateful for this, however, so please understand that despite my past and my mistakes; I am aware of who I am now and in the end, awareness is the key which can open the door to a brand new life.
Or, at least, so I hope.