The life and struggle of a Gorillachimp

…and so it has been so for the last four decades. When I was a kid I always longed for adulthood as I thought freedom laid in its womb. How wrong I was…

I spent my entire childhood yearning for the adult’s freedom only to find, as an adult, that real freedom was in the opportunity of just being a child.

Now, acknowledging my 80th birthday lies closer than the very day I was born, I’ve come to realize how little I have. Once I might been able to say that I was so poor, the only thing I had was money but now I don’t even have that. All my dreams, all my hopes, my ideas, my experience, my knowledge, everything I’ve experienced and all the things that summons up to what is called life… all will die with me as there is no one left to pass it on to. Is this coping with ones mortality? Well, maybe it is but it’s also a reality. I have no children, friends have become strangers and the very essence of the word family boils down to a manifestation of blood ties rather than solidarity, caring and a place to call home. The child is dead. Left is only the hangover and the memory of an ideal. If I could do it all again, would things be different?

If everything was different, would things still be the same?

…that everything is possible…EVERYTHING! Well, the thing is that those happy sons of bitches always forget to tell you the rest of the story;

Everything is possible… but most just isn’t likely!

So I come to this conclusion; Not all is possible but we’ll never know until we try. That’s why I don’t even bother trying anymore because in every effort, lies the possibility of a failure – and I’m so fed up with that right now, there’s just no point in trying anymore. Not all is possible, not all is impossible, all just is and dreams, hopes and faith as well as failure, misfortune and broken hearts comes and goes like a tide – if you’re standing in the wrong place at the wrong time, it will drown you.

…and it’s turning out to be yet another beautiful tropical night. I have this great balcony with a marvelous view overlooking trees and water and the sun sets right in front of me displaying wonderful colors on clouds with shapes limited only to the imagination… but I watch this spectacle of nature all alone. I see this wonderful sight and there is no one to turn around to and say with a smile – “Isn’t this beautiful?” After that she would smile at me and as we hold each other tight, gasping the wonders of mother nature, life would fill our blood stream with hope and joy and a soothing spiritual warmth would give us the strength to cope with whatever lies ahead.

But of course… it’s nothing but a dream. In reality, I find myself alone, only grateful that the balcony, compared to the rest of the apartment, has one wall less to attack me.

It’s been two days now. Not much has changed. There has been some ups but most downs. I tried out the plastic bag just to see if I had the guts. Once inside I figured, what the hell, let’s do this. I breath a couple of times and felt the oxygen slowly but surely decreasing… until I realized there was a hole in the bag. A question pops in my head;

How big of a fuck up is he who not only doesn’t succeed in living his life but also fails in ending it?

Yesterday I dreamed about a smiling face, a loving and friendly face leaning towards me with a kiss filled with love. I’m telling myself I would’ve missed this dream had I succeeded a couple of days ago but then again it’s not the dream I want, it’s the reality. The emotion in that dream, so passionate, so overwhelmed with love, so right… where is it in real life? Will I ever experience it again? Will I endure this struggle some call life or will I just go for another plastic bag with no holes? Feels like there are no bananas left for this old Gorillachimp.