Mauricio

-Have you ever wished you'd go to bed and not wake up, sir?

-Why, girl, have you never thought of that? I'm just being honest.

-Your doctor sent you here. He says you're depressed.

-Now, why would he say that?

-You don't know? You really don't think you're depressed?

-I'm not depressed. I'm normal. I just wish I'd die. You see, my life's a joke.

I am half blind, my eyes aren't good anymore and my brain makes up things to fill in the gaps where they can't see. I see things that aren't there. Yet I am not hallucinating. I know what is real and what is not. I'm an old creep with no family and no friends.

I'm just home alone, wasting time, waiting for things to end. Maybe I should make myself useful, find some work to do. But I can't get no job like this. They won't hire a blind old man. I got no social security, no cash, no comfort at all. No one is ever here to help; nobody cares. My life is useless. Why would I not want to die?

-Do you have a plan?

-Well, I keep a rope in my apartment and I've thought about hanging myself from the shower. Because that's in, you know? Cool people have done it. I just don't know... I guess I've been too tired to try.

Or do you mean plans for tonight? No, I don't have a plan.

-Why are you tired? Are you not sleeping well? Are you eating?

-Girl, I live by myself; sometimes I cook but my cooking is crap and the food is so awful I can't come to terms with eating. So I just toss it in the trash and go to my bed. Then I want to sleep, but there's a pounding in my heart that won't let me. Or a ghost by the chair. Then I want to drink alcohol, but I don't. Sometimes I sit in the sofa and space out. And I then I figure I took a very long nap, because the last thing I remember was the sun being out but by the time I look up again, it's dark.

-I'm glad you're here today, sir. We are going to help you.

-Help me with what, girl? I can tie my own noose, you know? Don't you worry about that.

 

Winter 2020

 Dreadful winter is here

but I don't fucking want it.

The expenses, the cold, the short days. 

The special sales with not enough money.

The dull, gray exteriors and the colder-than-fridge interiors.

I´m not myself in the winter. 

Winters make me old. They bring out the evil witch I managed to silence inside of me on warmer months.

I am a Grinch, never giving out Christmas gifts.

I thought I was just selfish, but I really can't afford them. 

And I am selfish.

I could never get my daughter excited about the Holidays.

There is just too much family drama surrounding those memories.

Grandpa and Grandma are no longer at our table. 

Christmas is never going to be the same again.

Every effort seems worthless.

There were so many years, so many smiles taken for granted:

A warm home. The furnace on. The coffee boiling. The turkey in the oven. And those warm arms that were always willing to embrace me and made things instantly better. The big house.

All those things are gone. 

I've been trying to make my home warm in the winter and turn around this bitter spell, but I can't.

I guess I lack optimism. Or money. Or maybe I am too whiney.

Times have changed.

Miserable winter is here.

If it weren't for you, it would not be worth living.