All of us here have nicknames. I am “English Paul,” as opposed to “Small Paul” and of course “Tex.”
“Chuckles” was all sort of screwed up. Although he had lived here in the compound for years, none of us ever talked to him. If he passed close enough by that you could not ignore him, you felt forced to say, “Good morning.” He would grow back. He ate at a table alone. Went to work alone wearing jeans and a ragged t-shirt. We do not know what he did for a living.
When our idle gossip turned to him, we all talked about what a poster child Chuckles was for poor physical and mental health.
He was found dead this morning. No real word what killed him. A shame he was in so much mental and perhaps physical pain in his last years. Stuck here for some reason none of us understood, he enjoyed not a single sunrise or even our signature roast beef night in the mess hall.
I wish him well in what lays ahead. I hope he has found rest and respite.
Let us all resolve to live our lives while we have it. To waste a day seems simply ungrateful.
I recently paid a return visit to a place I used to live a long time ago. People have prefix-names there too (“Big Hank”, “Violin Tom”, “Canadian Toby”). There was a couple I vaguely knew way back when. At the time their prefix names were “Dealer X” and “Junkie Y”. They were middle-aged but pretty cool. Apparently they’d been part of the scene in Goa back in the day.
I noticed a couple of derelict beggars in the street when I returned. Thought to myself there was some familiarity there. Then had it confirmed to me: the tramps are the couple I used to vaguely know.
Drugs and alcohol are killing them. They are properly emaciated, they stink, they are only in their sixties but they look twenty years older than that. In this place they can get beer for 30c a can though, and they can always beg up a few dollars a day. I suspect beer is where they get all their nutrition. If you buy them food they throw it away: they only want cash.
It’s really disturbed me, seeing them like that. Disgusts me, to be frank.
I agree: carpe diem. Reexamine yourself every now and again and ask “is this the life I want? If not, what can I do to change it?”
It is too bad for those who are unable, for whatever reason, be it self-sabatoge, addiction or mental/physical illness, or just a poor or cynical outlook to truly cease the day. Reminds me of this lyric from one of my favorite songs:
“Sometimes, when sailors are sailing
They think twice, about where they’re anchoring
And I think, I could make better use of my time on land.”
No shit … I may live in pain, but thanks to Rob serving in the navy 20 years I have medical care that we would not ordinarily be able to afford, and we have food on the table and a roof over our heads. Not much spare money for anything, but that doesn’t matter.