The early morning hours Usually, go by slowly. They are taking their time as They know that there is no rush. The streets, the trees, the cars are Motionless through the night. They know that There is nothing to do And there is nowhere to go Until the sun wakes up And the new day begins. Everything begins with dusk And it seems like I am the new person During those early morning hours.
Things happen and things change, And by dawn, it is already another day, It is another me, It is another life. We all live from dusk till dawn, Hoping, thinking, struggling. We all know that nothing’s last forever, We all know that neither dusk nor dawn Will help us stay alive for a while, And neither will make us better people. Surely, they will be here. Long after we’re all gone, Before we turn to dust, There always will be The same old dawn, The same old dusk, And the same dull life For somebody else, But not for us.
The traffic on I-95 was dead. My morning commute is usually rough. I was up early at 5 AM and rushed to work. I always wake up early because I have so much work to do every day that there are not enough hours in a day. I am forty years old, and I am the Director of Operations at one of the major finance companies. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and I am working harder every day to make sure my job is done well and on time, and according to the plan. Even though I make a decent salary, I can hardly prioritize my personal life, like spending time with my family. I have been married for 15 years and have two kids, 4 and 8. I wish I could spend more time with them, but I am always busy at my job. I show up in the office before anybody else does and work long after everybody else leaves. When I come home, I work some more and then more on the weekends, holidays, and pretty much every fucking time. Often, I feel like if I stop, the job will never get done, the team will underperform, and the company will collapse, and there will be no tomorrow.
A few weeks ago, I was on the same I-95 staying in bumper-to-bumper traffic, getting more frustrated and annoyed with every minute. The radio played some random lame morning show. I decided to browse through the channels to see if there is anything better to listen to. There’s hardly anything good on the radio anymore. As I scanned through the channels, I stopped once I heard the soothing voice of an older man talking. He mentioned something about “the theory of a thousand balls,” which caught my attention, and I turned the volume up. I sat in my car listening to this older man talking while watching the dead highway. There was nowhere to go and nothing else to do.
“Ok,” said the old man on the radio. “I can bet that you are always very busy at work, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am, old man,” I replied to the radio.
“So, you are always busy, yesterday, today, and you will be busy tomorrow and so on and on … and supposedly you get paid a lot of money.” The older man grinned as he said that and continued his speech in a serious but kind voice. “They are buying your life with money. Just think about it. You are not spending your time with your family or your friends or significant others! I just refuse to believe that you all need to work that much to make a day-to-day living. You work to please yourself! But see, the thing is that you are just like a hamster in the wheel. The more money you make, the more money you will need, and the more money you will spend, and it is a never-ending cycle. Regardless of how much money you have, you will always want more, and you will work more for that purpose. Just stop there for a moment and think. Do you really need all these new things or more things that you already have? Do you need that new car or brand-new phone with all the bells and whistles or anything else that bad? And in order to have all those possessions, are you willing to miss the time of watching your kids grow up, the first dance performance by your daughter, the first baseball or soccer game by your son? Let me tell my story about how I’ve learned to figure out what is really important in life.”
It’s in the air It’s in the sky It flies Like the time flies. It is here And there And it is every fucking where.
It’s on the surfaces of life It’s on people’s breath It’s in on the people’s mind It’s fucking everywhere.
You cannot see it, It has no smell Or color, There is no trace or Texture or the end of it. It comes and goes And comes back again Stronger than before.
It grows It spreads It is in our bodies And our antibodies Saying “Fuck it!” It is part of our lives now, It is behind our masks, And it is up in the air, It is just every fucking where And we have to live with it.
I am a happy man. I know I am. Even when things don’t seem to work out to my best, I think I am a happy man. Things were rough lately, but the man isn’t always in control of everything. Things do go out of order occasionally. I stand and smile, looking at the ceiling with my tired eyes. I think this isn’t so bad. Things will get better soon. I know they will.
They say this virus is so bad; they say it is so dangerous and difficult to survive. It is out there and everywhere, and is contagious, and it kills. I am not the healthiest person, and I a vulnerable person; I am afraid of this stuff. I am never leaving my apartment. I am not going out anymore. I find my peace just sitting at home and get buried in my books. Oh, I have so many books! I love my books so much! I love my jazz collection, and I love my classical music collection, and I love to be alone. I love to be with myself and nobody else.
One time, as I opened my doors to take my trash out, and my neighbour walked out at the same time, so I ran back inside. I don’t want to talk to my neighbours. I never have before, and now, it is just too dangerous. I shall be safe and stay inside. I wore a long coat, scrubs over my shoes, a face mask, and the shield over my eyeglasses and the two sets of gloves. My eyeglasses got foggy in a minute, and I could barely see anything, but I have to protect myself. It is too dangerous out there. The virus kills.
I don’t have any friends, and I am not looking to meet any. Not in these crazy times. They say it is so dangerous to be amongst the people. People should stay apart and away from one another. I like that. I never wanted to be amongst other people; I never mixed with them. I have always been an outsider and a loner, and I liked it like that. I don’t need anybody else in my life. I need myself and my books and my jazz music collection. I remember how I always been frustrated with meetings and conversing with other people at the office. Oh, my God. I always wanted to escape and to avoid any contact with anybody. They always talk to me about their lives, their dogs and cats, and kids, and all their problems. How great it is that we all have to work from home and don’t talk or be around one another. I have nothing to talk about with anybody. I don’t want to. My life is quiet. I am different. I am a happy man when I’m alone.
