30 Hours

Dear World

Please Kill Me,

Greetings and happy -whatever day it is- my scribbler’s of pain and joy (#TruthUnchained). Should the stars have aligned properly, then – “LOOK UP!”.

*realizes it’s daytime.*

“Damn it!”

Well, while I engage the lunar forces in eternal battle, I’d like you to enjoy something, a little different than my usual –

Blah, advice. Blah, poop-joke. Blah”.

Now, I usually don’t serialize events in my life, (as a matter of fact, there’s usually very little to serialize).

But it was pointed out to me that this particular event may serve some artistic purpose, (of the self indulgent nature).

So with that, I hope you enjoy getting to know me a little better-

Ladies and Gentlemen – 30 Hours


 

-30 Hours-

“I’ll see you next year.”

Those were the last words that I told my boss, as I walked out of my place of work for what -to this day- has been the last time.

I was already a little drunk on that New Year’s Eve. It wasn’t out of the ordinary. I had hit that magical sweet spot – just drunk enough to gain attention, yet still normal enough, that people were embarrassed to say anything about it.

I knew I’d gained a bit of a reputation. I just didn’t care. Sometimes we allow ourselves to fall so deeply into depression, that even our inner demons have to look down to find us.

I was there.

I was running.

The train ride home was nothing out of the usual, of course, with the addition of the pre-holiday celebrants.

I missed those days. Care free and joyous, for absolutely no reason. A small vodka burp reminded me of the flask that I’d hidden in my winter coat.

For a time, it felt like I was one of them.

Then, the trained stopped.

It was time to walk.

-28 hours-

The sun had barely begun to rise. I decided it a wise decision to walk the long way home. Anything to keep me slightly rebellious to the quid pro quo – type string of actions, that I had brokered my life into.

As an aside for those of you wondering, a bargained life isn’t a life – whether it be with your family, employer, spouse, or whomever.

You should never be willing to trade even the slightest bit of your happiness for anything or anyone. If you find yourself at life’s gambling table – keep that chip in your pocket. (#Non-Negotiable.)

– A dog barked.

-I finished my flask.

Staring at my home, thinking of the New Year, and likely smelling like a distillery – I made that conscious decision that I couldn’t do this again.

To do so, would mean death.

-26 Hours-

I pondered about for a little bit. Trying my best to swallow the impending anxiety attack – I packed. In retrospect it probably didn’t help – but what would you do?

I was already drinking.

Packing sort of validated the decision. To be honest, there was actually quite a bit of self-contempt.

“5 shirts and 1 pair of jeans.”

That was all I could find, short of work clothes and beer cans- and I’m pretty sure the latter isn’t allowed on a plane, (they’d rather you drink theirs).

What the hell did I let happen to my life?

So, I did what it is that I do best.

I wrote.

A post that a bunch of you actually enjoyed more than the previous ones, (of admittedly declining quality. But I’ve improved on that since, so thanks to you all -for the kick in the gonads).

I shut my laptop, and drank until I passed out.

-20 Hours-

I’ll be honest, the next few hours were a blur, (for some unknown reason), but when I awoke – I was different. I know it sounds cliche’, but it’s true.

The normal depressing thoughts were there, and then, all at once gone. Etched from my mind like a useless memory. In fact, that may have been what they were.

My mind had gone clear.

Then, from the horizons of my psyche arose a plan.

Not a fantasy.

Not dreams.

Not hopes.

A solid course of action, that comforted me, like a warm drink in cold weather.

No pressure.

No anxiety.

Just an option.

I walked fearlessly into it – with the kind of faith that one must have in a parachute before jumping.

And, I’m by no means faithful in anything.

But I was that day. I jumped accordingly.

-16 Hours-

I’d spent the day making the necessary arrangements and phonecalls.

It was odd. For the first time in years, I’d been acting with purpose, instead of blindly swinging at life, and hoping for a knockout.

I was operating with precision, determination, and direction. I was unstoppable.

I was me.

And obviously, as I do, I wrote -yet another post that you all seemed to love. (Thanks again by the way).

When I was done, I called out of work, and topped off my packed bag -with my laptop.

My flight was in –

-10 Hours-

I said goodbye to my mom, and Ubered-(I guess that’s my word now)- to the airport.

Obviously, I had second thoughts the entire time. The pink cloud of naivety only lasts so long.

I pushed through it, with thoughts of the shell that I was leaving behind.

I didn’t want to go back.

I refused to.

I bought my ticket, and waited at the gate.

New York to California in 6 Hours.

That’s what it would take.

And that’s all it took.

My last words in New York, were in response to a joke from a curious flight attendant.

Looking for gold?

– Yep.

Fin.


It’s been good here. Though, I’m not sure of the use my new friends seem to see in the story.

Though I suppose, now that I’m seeing it written for the first time, there’s a message in there somewhere.

For me, I guess, it means this:

Regardless of where you are in your life right now, no matter how low you feel, or whoever you are – it can all change overnight

That is, if you’re willing to give it the time.

See you later,

-Antwan Crump.

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