This Life I Lead

Journal Entry: July 22, 1984

"This Life I lead"


The door swings shut. You know, that creaking sound of the hinge as it contracts followed by the sudden thud of the door hitting the frame. I have heard that sound a thousand and one times. It never changes. It’s always the same.

I have no guilt. They come through the door and they exit. They come for a reason. They come for a need. I tell myself I’m a businessman and that I provide a business that is in high demand. If I did not provide the business, they would go somewhere else to fill their need.

In my line of work, you just don’t hang a sign outside the building proclaiming you are open for business. I operate solely on word of mouth. I operate behind the scenes, in the alleys and boarded up buildings of the streets. I don’t advertise. Advertising in my line of work is conducive to failure. I simply distribute my product to a selective few and wait for the sampling to begin. You see, I’m the piper and when the piper is in town, the parade is soon to follow.

It’s late in the day. My business is sure to pick up now. My customers are searching for their demons. Their only hope is that they won’t have to search too long. It’s that tiny itch that they need to scratch. If they don’t scratch it, it only gets worse. Suddenly, the door swings open. It’s all I know.

The door swings shut, another satisfied customer. I walk to the window, carefully counting the money from the transaction. The window is open but you would never know it. It’s hot in the city tonight. I poke my head out to gather some fresh air. The city is putrid; the smell of life has taken hold of my senses. Garbage, rotting food and human excrement, the city’s perfume is nauseating. This hot stench is hanging over the city. It’s inescapable. This life I lead is demanding. This life I lead is expanding. This life I lead is a dead-end.

Down the street, I hear the sweet turbulent cry of youth. All I can think about is that they could be new customers. The car horns, the throngs of people, the smell and the lights, it is really too much. This life I lead is really best forgotten.