Category Archives: Creative

Nobody Walks On The Beach In January

I opened the car door and stepped out of the vehicle. The wind was too much, it was almost deafening. I shut the door behind me and slowly walked across the sand. The beach in the dead of winter in New England was as depressing as it sounds. All the colors that usually seem like a 1950’s Cinemascope in Technicolor production were all muted and dull. The skies, the ocean, the sand pebbles were all as if I had strolled into a grainy black and white silent film classic. This really seemed like the proper place for me. I approached the shore line. The waves were rather large with whitecaps. The wind was even more intense. I decided to talk a walk along the beach to take one last look at the old money, historic, grandiose mansions that lined it.

I walked into the cold winds. I continued smoking my cigarettes. I could not see a single person anywhere as I trudged forward. It felt as if there was an Apocalypse and I was the only person left. Or perhaps this was some sort of a purgatory where I was destined to roam endlessly and never actually live or die, just be in a constant state of limbo. I enjoyed the cold winds, it made me feel something which was odd because the temperature was more numbing than anything else. As I continued to walk, I did not feel any peace or less stress, I felt like my luck had run out. All the lucky streaks I  had in my life were all used up, it was like I had depleted all my wishes from the genie’s bottle. If I had no luck left, what was the point in anything? I needed some luck otherwise every gamble would turn to shit, like a Bizarro King Midas.

I reached the end of the shore. I could not walk any further. If I were to continue I would have to swim. I stood at the endpoint staring into the ocean. I smoked a few more cigarettes. I watched the seagulls buzz around doing nothing. Seagulls are like the welfare birds of the bird kingdom, they have a huge ocean to eat from, but would rather beg to be fed by humans, this was their season that they needed to actually work. I lit up my last cigarette and walked into the water. It was ice cold. It seemed like hypothermia automatically set in. I has no other choice. I was already in too deep. It was too late to go back. What was the point? It was perfect, nobody walks on the beach in January. I extinguished my cigarette and continued to submerge myself  into the water.

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Nobody Walks On The Beach In January

As I drove closer to my final destination, snowflakes filled the air. They were not heavy, it was the feel as if I was trapped inside a snow globe. They were gently falling, which for some reason agitated me. Perhaps it was because they had a magical, winter wonderland feel to them, it made me sick. I drove along the shore line until I reached my beach of choice. I pulled into the parking lot which was practically desolate. There were a few cars. I figured there were several options for these parked cars, people taking their dogs to the beach, people using drugs and people who found the ocean soothing. None of these categories were representative of me. I parked my car in a far off corner of the immense lot that in summer days would be packed. As soon as I pulled into the spot, a one legged seagull flew over by my car. It was perched on a stone and it began to stare at me.

This invalid of a bird would not take its disgusting black eyes off of me. I felt like I was Christopher in The Sopranos when he got made. What kind of a creepy jinx was this? How the hell did this thing lose a leg? How was it still alive? Maybe it was born with this hideous deformity, who knows why things are the way they are? This feathered disease filled creep would not stop looking at me. If it was a large bird, like a hawk, I would have been scared, but this was just ghoulish. Who knows if this was an ominous sign or just the Universe’s way of completely pushing me over the edge? I figured once the bird flew away I would get out of my car and head towards the water.

I continued to stay seated in my car for the next 45 minutes, chain smoking and listening to bad pop songs from the 1980’s. Even the feel good sounds of better days were a depressing nostalgia. Finally, with a look of a contempt mixed with disgust, the one legged seagull took off into the snowy skies. It was now my turn.

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Nobody Walks On The Beach In January

I pulled into the Shell station that was a little bit down the road from the exit. It had too many cars parked outside for my liking. Don’t people work anymore? Who is just loitering around on a Tuesday at 10:00 A.M.? I mustered up enough mental strength to enter the gas station.  There was a satellite Dunkin Donuts. The line was seven people deep so I waited in line. I figured why not? Supposedly this is better than the gas station variation of coffee, why not splurge, considering this could be it. I waited impatiently in the line that was moving at a glacial pace. I was judging all of the sad sacks that were ahead of me in line, wearing their best sweatpants, at least it had not come to this for me. I was still wearing pants with buttons when I left the house. All these people seemed as depressing as me. What if all these lonely souls got together? Would it lead to happier times or would it devolve into the same pathetic tone of an AA meeting? I finally got my large black coffee and proceeded to the next line to get my cigarettes. Luckily the cashier at Dunkins was foreign and spoke broken English so she left me indifferent.

This line had five other people in front of me. They were no better than the people in the other line. All so sad. How does this happen? How are there so many miserable people roaming this Earth? Is it even worth feeling this way? Life is short in the grand scheme of things, but seems endless when you feel abandoned by it. The cashier for the gas station was also foreign, some sort of Arab, sometimes the stereotypes are just reality. I know there is a cultural divide, but this guy had zero customer service. His tone when he spoke was close to menacing. Luckily, I could give a fuck. It was my turn and I barked at him before he could bark at me. The three packs of Marlboros would be more than enough to tide me over.

I got back in the car and headed towards the on ramp for the highway. The cloud cover intensified.  Soon enough I would be at the beach.

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Nobody Walks On The Beach In January

People go to the beach to relax or get centered or whatever other jargon these nitwits use to describe de-stressing. The concept of not being under stress was foreign to me. I always feel uncomfortable. I’m never relaxed. How can anybody relax unless they are sedated? So off I drove to the beach. The ride would be about two hours which gave me ample time to really think about my options. Do I just walk into the ocean like the end of  A Star is Born? I realized how gay the comparison was, but I enjoy the Vincent Minnelli version. The version with Streisand is an abortion. Who the hell let a woman with a face like that become a celebrity? Her voice is not even that good, there are plenty of other women out there with better voices, not to mention, actual acting ability. I won’t even get into this Bradley Cooper-Lady Gaga calamity. Okay, maybe I am more gay than I realized. I seem to have an abundant amount of knowledge about this franchise, though I did not even think about the original, well, know I did, so I guess I’m on some gay shit.

As I continued my trek towards the beach the skies got progressively darker. It seemed as if nature was telling me that the closer I got to the end point that I would not find redemption or salvation, but that I would in fact find penalization. That it would all end in a grand punishment for all of my wrong doings. Now, I’m not a religious man by any means, though you do find yourself turning to God in matters of potential enormous financial loss. I don’t believe I ever thought of God when I was winning. Perhaps if I had that the Heaven’s would have provided more luck. But I don’t really believe that, I was never one of those gamblers. There are a ton of them that are superstitious. I never bought into any of that bullshit. The skies were dark and I was still beach bound.

My coffee had already gotten cold and I had no more cigarettes. I knew I should pull off and get a refill of both, but I just did not have any ounce of energy to interact with another human soul. But that is what life really is, you having to do things you don’t want to do, just to get a little tiny bit of pleasure, even if only for a brief moment. It was really a no win situation, either I would not stop or I could stop with two potential outcomes. The first is getting a checkout person who is very happy and pleasant, which just felt like that could be the final bit of soul crushing to finish me off. The second would be getting a checkout person who was totally miserable. Though this variation would be far less annoying, it would just fan the flames of my belief that this existence is truly a miserable one. I pulled off at the next exit.

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Nobody Walks On The Beach In January

I was on the verge of a complete breakdown. Perhaps it was the long winter that had just begun weeks before but felt like an eternity. All those quacks are always diagnosing with nonsense like Seasonal Affective Disorder but this was not a depression, this was a breaking point. I was on an extended streak of utter shit luck and although streaks were meant to be broken, I did not foresee that I would be on the receiving end of any sort of good fortune. Though some may claim that I am a degenerate gambler, I would disagree, but then again nobody likes to admit certain things about themselves. So what if I like to gamble? It is just as debauched as any person with what they coin an addiction, but I look at it as a real commitment. Why must everything that is fun be shut down as a “disease” or a “problem?” Maybe people are just enjoying life in a way that is different from what has been deemed normal.

Gambling was the only thing that I truly enjoyed in this miserable existence that was my life. Though as of late, it seemed to fall into the same category as many other things in my life, failure. It was as though anything that I attempted in the beginning would be wildly successful and as the time ticked on it would slowly deteriorate into complete shambles. My marriage, my job, my health and now gambling. I suppose it was only a matter of time until the pendulum swung the other way, but boy, the feeling of riding that winning wave is unparalleled to anything else I have experienced. It is what brides must feel like on their wedding day or the way professional athletes feel when they win a big game. It was an endorphin rush that makes dicks hard and pussies wet.

But now, with nothing short of being cursed, I found myself at a crossroads. The loss of major amounts of my finances were just the icing on the cake of a failed lifetime. Some might think this was just a very dark midlife crisis, but I was aware that this was much more. This was the decider. If I were to place a bet on my own life, the odds would be against me. Half of me found this to be distressing, while the other half found it to be calming. It was as if I was in an ocean that was totally calm and then on the horizon I could see these enormous waves that I knew would destroy me. That is when I decided it was time to head to the beach.

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