The Night Dawns.

The Night Dawns.

It fades like my life. A slow, subtle click of the clock and I can feel each second of love that I am losing. The wonder is an amusement park. The next step was trajectory like an airplane, but instead I am aimlessly flying. I’m a ordinary man to fault. I have the tools, but I never repaired anything. Life is like a routine maintenance check on a vehicle. You can keep driving, but if you fail to perform regular checks you will be left with an in-operable piece of technology. In this case. It just so happens I am that very in-operable technology. A human being who has lost his own sense of regularity.

I spent most of my life in pubs and various drinking establishments. All of which are dives. The people involved were the same wrinkled skins I’d see every night. Idle at a bar stool drinking away their sorrows, their mistakes, their lost love. It was like spending a day at a funeral. You see the pale skin adorned with fine attire, yet you knew it was lifeless. The only difference perhaps was the mere fact that those in a bar are not dressed as nice as the dead. A stark difference. I was leaving an establishment riddled with confusion; much like my life. I can remember speaking to an intoxicated woman who would more than likely sleep with me. We were on different playing fields—fuck we were in a different game. I remember the scent of stale tobacco and piss that riddled the bar. It fit the theme of the music played by locals that sounded like some poor man’s version of rock n roll. She was interested, and I was disgusted. I was part of the clique. I aligned with the hopelessness and yet I was in a totally different mindset. I remember looking at her. She had blonde hair with blue eyes. She wore tight jeans that suited her body type, but her personality was incredibly bubbly. Bubbly like the fact that she was all smiles about everything but knew nothing about anything. It was a living walking, beautiful contradiction. I had 0 interest. I was more amazed at the fact of the strangers co-habituating in their own demise. A bunch of strangers in a house that serves alcohol and shite food that communicated and interacted as if they knew one another their whole lives. In actuality; they were merely intoxicated and drugged. I couldn’t get past that. It was so surreal. A bunch of false connections looking out for themselves—the next cheap thrill sexually and chemically. The same I suppose.

I worked average jobs my entire life. I was never a white-collar man. I dreamed of it. I am capable of it, yet I never quite found myself there. I feel like life left me blowing in the wind many years ago. A man like that of a piece of dust or sand trailing the roadways; carried by the wind. I existed, but not to the magnitude of which life demands. It was always a conflict to perform and live up to societies, and my family’s expectations. I’m Tim Youth and I missed the boat to life. This is my story and I’m trying to piece it together. Much like my life it has been nothing short of a puzzle. Loss, lies, death, alcohol, drugs, mistakes, regret, guilt and finally redemption. All I ever wanted in life was purpose. That is what everyone wants yet some struggle to find it. Some settle for it and some never find it. I think I fall into the latter category. A life misrepresented by goals set fourth by family, tradition, geography and society. Life is so difficult. I don’t even know where I fall into category as the same species as mammals. How can humans be a part of Animalia? We are capable of so much yet. We are self-aware, yet ignorant the very principal of life. The fact that life ends, and it is solely up to ourselves to define it instead of re-writing someone else’s definition. An utterly macabre scenario.

The night was young. The neon light adorned the streets like a poor mans Las Vegas. It was amusing. I am cynical and yet, astute. I don’t need anyone telling me how to think. The streets are filled with scum. Travis Bickle would have a field day. People fueled by chemistry all co-existing. I found myself here like the other seeking for an answer. For some this is the solution to their problems. For me this is merely observational. I walked the dirty, dark streets of the city to co-exist; to feel comfortable in my skin. I perused the night to feel like I am like everyone else, but I just never found my stride. How could I? The people were easily amused. It startled me like a strike of chain lightning shrouded by an ominous landscape. Karaoke and 4-dollar highballs. It is a night to let loose. A night to blend in.

The bartender asked me how I was and what I’d like to drink. The bar was playing various music from disco, rap, hip-hop, metal and country. It’s karaoke night and all the would be Canadian Idol’s were out. There was a woman wearing glasses that resembled a style that John Lennon would have worn many years ago. A very definitive round shape and gold on the frame. She had long blonde hair and beautiful green eyes. A pink top that was revealing yet not so revealing paired with a fitted pair of navy blue jeans. Her body shape was that of a model and she was looking right at me. I was sitting there in my white shirt, charcoal sports coat with my legs crossed. There was something electric about the eye contact. I was shocked and thrown off guard. I was never a womanizer. I never tried to hit on woman and have turned down woman many times, but this woman had me. I was in love. She moved around the bar gracefully. Smiling at everyone and yet her smile was free, her smile was invested in me. It was surreal. I picked up my perspired beer and did something I never did. I went to talk to her.

“Hey, you look stunning.” I said with a nervousness. Jesus what were you thinking. I walked up like any average man and complimented her on her beauty in such a nerdy way. I’m thinking too much; I never do this so it’s foreign territory. She responds with such an angelic voice: “Hi! I’m great, how are you? What brings you here?” A sigh of relief waved over me thinking that well at least she responded. Perhaps I am a cynical, and isolated little prick. “If I was any better I’d be suspicious.” I jokingly said. She laughed, and her teeth were perfect. Her smile was pearl white like that of blank piece of paper. She was perfect I thought. “Come dance with me, this is my favorite song.” I did not hesitate. I was hypnotized. A lonely man, a lost man in a place where he did belong, but somehow found himself feeling an emotion he had not felt in a very long time. Perhaps this is the reason for my morbidity.

I grabbed the girls hand to whom I still didn’t know her name. I didn’t care. I was living in the moment at this point and for the first in awhile the moment was ecstatic with joviality. I was grinning like a school boy as if crushing on the cute young girl in the knee-high skirt and pink t-shirt. I was in love. Some drunkard was singing Goodbye Yellow Road by Elton John. The singer wasn’t bad, but he was not Elton John. I didn’t care. This was carnal. I wanted to hold my hands on her hips and gaze into her beautiful green eyes. The pink top felt divine as I rested my hands on her hips. The chorus of the song was divine, yet shite. It didn’t matter. That is the main point of it all. Nothing mattered, but the very instance of me and her locked into a pleasurable gaze of love, happiness and silliness. I thought to myself: “What the hell is happening.” She still smiled. I was in love.

“What’s your name handsome?” she asked gently. I hesitated for a moment. “My name is Tim Youth.” She smiled. She continued to gaze as we waltz to the drunken rendition of an Elton John classic. “I’m Percillia—Tim. Nice to meet you.” I moved my cheek to the side of hers. I grazed her lips with a gentle, yet passionate kiss to which she reciprocated. I was lost in ecstasy and for a moment I was lost without care and driven by love. A hopeless man, in a hopeless bar drinking bottomless amounts of alcohol in hopes to fit in and feel like he is not so disassociated with reality. It was in the very place I hated that I felt human for the first time in many years.