I can’t see. I mean, I’m not blind, so maybe I should be careful how I describe my sight. I wouldn’t say that I have a disability. It’s not like that. It’s less like that and more like every word I read is frustratingly blurry. Even now, as I type these words, and letter by letter they domino across my screen, my corneas are discombobulated. My retinas are confused. My rods work better than my cones because my cones work hardly at all. Gone are the days when I proudly demonstrated what wondrous acuity my eyeballs were capable of. Gone are those days when I could see where I was going.
Used to be that I was going to the dope house to see the dope man to buy some dope. However, there were usually detours along the way. I might have to swing by the radio station my brother worked at to obtain a loan from him under false pretenses. I might have to stop at the pawn shop and borrow some dollars against property that wasn’t mine. I might have to stop by one store to steal something and then another store to sell that stolen something. Yet there never was a detour nor an obstacle
that kept me from the
dope house for very long. The dope house was my center of gravity. The
dope man was my North Star.
I’m lost. I’ve been lost ever since I banished the dope man from my life. I stumble aimlessly, whereas I once moved with purpose. Dope was a mission and a mistress. It was exciting. It lured me through a jungle and still keeps a piece of me there. Without dope, I am lost. How would man have navigated the Iron Ages had the North Star disappeared from the
sky? How do I leave behind a life of addiction so as to vigorously
explore freedom? I don’t know. I may never know. Perhaps love should be my compass. Perhaps passion should be my fuel. But maybe I should just drift. I don’t see so well. Age is catching up to me. I suppose my hourglass has yet plenty of sand, but I’ll only know for sure when I’m able to shower in the falling grain. It is not enough to see words and hear words. One must be able to feel them. It is not enough to be free. One must have the courage to set themselves in motion, even when the destination is unclear.
Email Tim at tct@pageone-inc.com.
