black coffee

My depression began to escalate. I decided to take a walk and think. The late afternoon streets teemed with life. A skinny fag in pinstriped jeans checked me out as I passed a dusty shoe store. I ignored him. I wasn’t in the mood for anything. I continued down the avenue, lost in the chaos of doubt and hopelessness.

Though I was mired in fits of sadness and anxiety, the pulse of life surrounded me. The sky was a fiery orange as the sun sank behind the mammoth cathedral. Smells wafted from mouthwatering, rotisserie chickens which were displayed in neon blasted, dusty windows as a bum stood and pissed onto the outside wall. Small Indian children, snot caked black on their faces, grabbed my pant leg as I walked by - moanay! moanay! A guy costumed as a circus clown operated a turntable in front of a pharmacy as a cheerful crowd looked on.

My way was clogged by a group of teenage boys in bright, multicolored soccer outfits. They stood laughing and talking as I gawked at them with fractured, limitless lust. Shoeshine boys called out to polish my leathers as I strolled past blue, yellow, pink adobe houses and buildings erected a hundred years ago. Banda music from various shops blasted at deafening volume as the store vendors hawked their wares - vying for my attention. I cut into a deserted café, ordered a black coffee, and scribbled these words out unconsciously onto a napkin: Life is long when you’re lonely…