People need jobs. That’s what everyone tells you. Jobs come in different ways, shapes and forms in order to match people’s skills, knowledge, attitudes and mindsets. It’s just the way it is. Like a math function. For every x there’s a y. Jobs enable people to have money. Money enables people to do stuff. More money, more stuff to do, more stuff to buy, more ambitions, more dreams. Sometimes even more problems, more addictions, suspicions or superstitions.
But if people didn’t feel like having jobs then they wouldn’t get money. Simple as that. No money no nothing. The simple law of exchange. No money no food. But there’s a problem. If people don’t have food they die. But it doesn’t matter. Money rules. Jobs rule.
But some people simply don’t feel like getting a job. Or they simply have enough of whatever jobs they did so far and simply stop doing any job altogether. I was one of these exact people. At the age of 31 I was living a jobless life free of any responsibility on the streets of Copenhagen in Denmark. What I mean by “on the streets” is literally… on the streets! I was homeless. What did you expect? I didn’t have a job. So obviously I couldn’t pay for a house. But it wasn’t all that bad. It wasn’t one of those unfortunate bad luck situations where one gets kicked out of the house or the job or loses everything due to whatever harsh vicissitude that no one saw coming. I even had a college degree in banking. I had many job choices and during a certain timeline I always used to pick something from that spectrum of choices. But one day something changed.
I simply stopped caring about being a responsible human and fit in all those requirements imposed by society. That was simply it. I genuinely did not enjoy myself worrying about things as rent, taxes, coupons, what to wear when going out and so on. And I was fine with it. It wasn’t all that bad. The only sad part was that my friends back in my little home town of Southern Spain couldn’t come to terms with my eccentric decision. Those people called me names and ghosted me, saying that they didn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. My parents had a similar reaction too. They basically pretended that they never had a kid in the first place. Their justification was that after all those years of pouring uncountable amounts of finance into my education and compromising so much to send me to Denmark to get a higher perspective accompanied by material emancipation the result was me being a hobo in the streets of Copenhagen. And the fact that my situation was voluntary simply couldn’t be accepted by my once so loving and caring parents. I guess the so-called unconditional love had some terms and agreements after all.
But at the end of the day I stopped caring about such opinions and reactions altogether. After a little while I stopped missing my friends and family from my conforming days. Good riddance, if I think about it. Ever since I quit my final job as a delivery man, sold most of my stuff and ended my contract with this housing company, my soul felt lighter in the homelessness realm. The beginning was rough but once I established myself in the local hobo community, things worked out smoothly. I didn’t expect the fellow homeless people to possess such a high sense of solidarity. We were even sharing things every now and then. For a few crackers or a can of beer they would share a joint with you. Even the junkies shooting heroin would pass their needle to you but I was never really into heroin to begin with. Nonetheless, I appreciated their intentions. By word of mouth every important update of the city of Copenhagen was reaching us. We were somehow sticking to each other. Every now and then a small group of homeless guys was having a feast and if you happened to be a fellow homeless passing by and if at least one person from the group knew you then you were more than welcome to join. It wasn’t really all that bad. I had a greater sense of community with these people than I had in that college campus full of phonies contaminating that hollowed space.
Everyday elements like sleeping and basic hygiene were sometimes compromised but loopholes could be still found. One of them was a social center in Copenhagen with beds and stuff where you could score a night in a warm bed in a dorm with other hobos for the mere price of 6 euros. Getting the 6 euros wasn’t much of a trouble since I could scrap some coins by playing this ragged acoustic guitar that I found in a junk yard in one of the main squares or help out some shops owned by immigrants with some cleaning or moving boxes around. Some of those guys knew me and even gave me a bit of food every now and then. I really felt that I was part of the community. The trouble arose when all beds were taken during particular nights. As long as the weather was decent I could go to any of the well-known so called “safe spots” where any hobo could get a decent sleep without being bothered. But when the weather was a depressing disaster I used to question everything in my life since those nights were the most challenging to get comfortable. But there was always a way. There had to be a way and when you really wanted something you eventually got it. Most of the times at least.
I even had my own bicycle. At least I made it my own. Some dumb fuck left his bike unlocked when going to some party held at some student building. I happened to walk around the area and couldn’t resist. I mean come on, when you leave your bike like that you’re kinda asking for it. I had no remorse whatsoever doing it. Matter is primordial and everything is in constant motion. That bike was no exception to the rule. The concept of possession is an abstract human thing anyway. So after I took that bike I brought it to this ghetto place in the outskirts where some people were doing graffiti. There were graffiti tubes thrown away everywhere and few of them still had a little bit of their colored liquid inside. I managed therefore to paint my bike in a different color so the previous owner would not recognize it when seeing me rolling through good old Copenhagen.
All my fortune was consisting of a thick blanket, that ragged guitar I mentioned earlier, the stolen bike and a trash bag containing some clothes, a tooth brush, a bar of soap and a few wretched books I simply took from those “give one, take one” book stands lying around train stations and some small stands in front of people’s houses for anyone to nick them. I had my bike pretty much everywhere I went and I kept my other things in a store belonging to this guy, Pablo from Nicaragua, whom I was helping out pretty much every day. He did that because once upon a time he was homeless too and he empathized a lot with me. He let me use his bathroom too but only in the quiet hours.
When I wasn’t preoccupied to help people like Pablo or do anything else to secure my basic existential needs, I was free to choose from a wide range of activities to fill my time which was always marching towards my inevitable death. My mind was always free to wander across the universe and that enabled me to make my own little adventure, even though the space was so limited. I would take long walks or ride my bike to various corners inside and outside Copenhagen where there was always something to be seen. I loved to exercise in the public workout spaces or simply do cardio and fitness stuff in empty park spaces or in some lonesome nature place I would randomly stumble upon while cycling aimlessly. Never before in my life had I ever been in a better shape physically and I could really feel it. Sometimes I would amuse myself playing with people’s pets or simply running after pigeons to make all those creatures fly and create a thrilling motion spectacle. Some other times I would simply climb on one of the few abandoned structures in the outskirts just to stare into nothingness for hours and I found absolutely nothing wrong with doing that. I was simply enjoying the little things. On certain occasions when my clothes were more or less clean and a thorough shower had been recently conducted, I would even walk into a bookstore just to read whatever could get my attention. I would memorize the page or chapter where I had left the book and come back some other time to resume the narrative. All these moments made me conclude that life was truly beautiful and I really meant it. There was nothing I could’ve changed about that and years were simply rolling that way. I found comfort in that.
One day I was standing on a bench in the midst of this corporate park in Copenhagen where big glass buildings were proudly displaying flashy logos of companies that made a big contribution to the national economy. While I was preoccupied with starring into the bright blue Danish sky of that particular day my eyes spotted something rather interesting. 2 figures, a man and a woman, were walking outside the building in front of me. They both had fancy outfits and displayed an air of importance. But none of those things got my attention. What made my eyes gleam was the fact that I could recognize almost instantly the woman. We went to university together in Aalborg, in Northen Denmark. She was Lana, my ex. We were together for 2 years and I broke up with her few months before we graduated. She didn’t take that moment so lightly. She was actually bitter due to my lack of my commitment and my carefree tendency of going through life. She didn’t really understand stoicism that much. But anyway, it was cool to see her again, after all these years. She seemed to be in a really good position. She looked confident, experienced, and in control of what she was doing. She was holding hands with the guy whose outlook displayed the same qualities.
It was the perfect chance to catch up and have a little chat with Lana. We had some nice moments in our relationship, ain’t gonna lie. We hadn’t spoken in such a long time. Last time we spoke she told me how I would end up being a loser, doing drugs with absolutely 0 future or perspectives. Well, here I was, several years later, a proud hobo who gave 0 fucks and simply loved life and everything, staying alive for the sake of survival and not for the sake of things that brought purpose.
My appearance was in complete antithesis with the other 2 fellow humans. I had a long beard with crumbs of my breakfast in it, long hair that was both uncombed and unwashed, baggy clothes with stains on them and my beloved Nike Cortez sneakers which had a few scratches and holes in them. Nevertheless, that display didn’t stop me from standing up and walking straight to them to initiate a conversation. I didn’t stop until I faced Lana. I was genuinely excited because we both had so many things to talk about. So many stories, impressions and expressions lay ahead. I went straight to Lana with a wide smile, full of radiating positivity.
“Hey Lana! How have you been??” I asked her.
Her mood shifted entirely. Her bewilderment made her freeze like one of those renaissance statues displayed in an Italian museum.
“Who the fuck are you? How do you know my name?” Lana had no idea what was going on.
She didn’t recognize me. And that wasn’t so surprising since I didn’t look quite the same as the last time I saw her. My clean, arranged and shaved outlook from the days of being a committed student were long time gone and probably never coming back. Not just that, but it had been a while too. 8 damn years passed in between and in such a time span drastic changes can happen. Nonetheless, I didn’t back up and felt compelled to clarify the situation. I couldn’t let such a unique occasion pass like that. I mean what were the odds?
“I know your name because you know my name too, even though you obviously forgot that you once called it dearly for God knows how many times. We shared the same campus in college. Now. I dare you, dear Lana, say my name!”
She looked more closely into my eyes while the guy next to her was as perplexed as ever.
“Ernesto? What on Earth? Ernie, is that really you?” She analyzed every detail of everything she could set her eyes on concerning my apparel.
“You’re looking at him, darling. In bones and flesh. It’s good to see you, girl. How have you been? You seem to be doing really great!” I couldn’t hold my enthusiasm.
“How I’ve been is not what I want to talk about now. What in the name of our lord happened to you? You look so shabby and filthy! It’s like you haven’t had a shower in weeks! And… and… and you fucking stink! You smell horrible! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?”
“Well, I’ve been homeless for a few years now. No pressure, really, I’m having a great time. And concerning shower, I had one 2 weeks ago. If I have at least one shower a month I’m alright. I just stopped conforming to the self-perpetuated dogma preached by the invisible hand which rules over everything. And it’s so redeeming and satisfying, I swear! Best decision I’ve ever made. I’m serious.”
Lana had a hard time processing what I’d just said.
“Ernesto… do you even hear yourself? Do you hear those words coming out of that mouth of yours?” She was getting angry for some reason.
“Every single one of them.” I said calmly. I was still smiling.
“Do you even look in the mirror? Are you aware of what you’ve become? After we stopped dating I already had the impression that you were a low life degenerate scumbag but never in my life could I even fathom the idea of you becoming… of you becoming…. THIS!” She started to be intense all of a sudden. “DON’T YOU HAVE ANY BIT OF SHAME? HAVE YOU SIMPLY LOST EVERY BIT OF DIGNITY AND DECENCY WHICH AT LEAST YOU PRETENDED TO HAVE BACK IN COLLEGE? HOW THE FUCK DID I EVEN FIND YOU CUTE IN COLLEGE AND EVEN DATED YOU?”
Before I could say anything in my defense the guy next to her that was silently hearing and observing every bit of our interaction stepped in to join the conversation.
“Wait, Lana, you mean you dated this… thing (points at me) when you were in college? What was wrong with you? Were you high?”
“Mark, no. You don’t know. He wasn’t like that back then. He looked… ok… decent at least.”
“Lana, I don’t know how to process this. So that piece of junky low life filth touched you and was even inside of you?” He went on.
“Hey man, you better not call me this and that if you don’t know shit about me. I have a degree, just like you, and I even read philosophy once in a while.” I said.
The man gave me a spiteful bitter look and walked straight to me.
“Listen here, jerk off. Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”
“With you, I said. That’s who. What was your name? Mark?” I couldn’t care less about whatever title he was about to shove in my face. He looked insecure as hell. And of course he was about to brag about titles and all the cool things that he had. I saw it coming. The guy was so poor that all he had was money.
“Mark Dereksson, for your information, that if you are able to store any information in that substance abused brain of yours. I’m the manager of the Marketing department where Lana earns her bread. And me, unlike you junkie, worked really hard to be who I am and enjoy the satisfactions which everyone in my position has. Unlike you, I am someone in this world. People look up to guys like me, guys that struggle to achieve things, to build something, to…”
“Blah blah blah, are you done? If I didn’t cry this morning watching a gorgeous sunrise caressing the cold waters by the harbor, I would probably listen to that story of yours. But it’s pretty boring. You just boost your status and brag about your material lavishness. You are literally just praising your plastic ego wrapping.” And then I turned to Lana while Mr. Corporate Douchebag was babbling some reply. “Lana, what do you see in this dude? He’s nothing but a price tag. You can do better than that.”
“Now don’t you fucking dare say anything about what me and Mark have now! You know absolutely nothing. You understand that?”
Mark rejoined the conversation. Now this is when things got interesting.
“Lana… I’m lost for words at the mere fact that this piece of human filth got intimate with you once upon a time. And you were fine with that! What was in your god damn mind?” Thus spoke Mark.
“Mark.. dear… it was a really long time ago. Let’s just pretend it never happened! Come on, you can’t be serious!”
“But Lana, this is serious. This tells something about you.”
“Mark, I was a dumb and young student at the time. And I was drinking too, so when you’re drunk everyone seems beautiful! And Ernest was actually a decent human being who was making an effort to get a degree just like the rest of us. A lousy effort but an effort nonetheless!”
“LANA, LISTEN! You just admitted yourself that he was lousy at that time. And you still hooked up with him. I don’t know why I just can’t process this. And you sort of defend him now? Lana… this changes a lot of things… “
The two high status humans forgot I was even there in the first place. Lana got emotional, Mark looked grave and serious and I was standing bemused a few meters away watching how things were evolving. I don’t know why I just found that shit funny. Mr. Big Mouth Price Tag Manager could’ve just let everything go, pretend to never see me and walk somewhere else with Lana by his side but no. He had to overthink and spice things up. The curse of being human was besetting all of us. No one could escape it and Mark was human too. Way too human. I wished I could have popcorn and soda for what I was witnessing. It was pure raw entertainment and it was free of charge. Back when I still got a job, a stable roof over my head and taxes to pay, I used to spend loads of money on various forms of entertainment which were supposed to bring stimulation to my existence but guess what? They actually sucked. And the fact that I paid for them made them suck even more. What was going on in front of my eyes, on the other hand, was the real thing. And I enjoyed every bit of it. I didn’t even listen to the words anymore. The non-verbal part of the communication was the bread and butter of that dynamic interaction.
“SO YOU ARE BREAKING UP WITH ME?” Lana screamed eventually, which got back my attention to the audio part of the conversation.
“I stand behind what I said. I just can’t fathom the idea that you once had feelings for such a hobo.”
“ONCE AGAIN, FOR THE ONE THOUSANDTH FUCKING TIME, MARK, HE WASN’T A HOBO BACK THEN. AND OUR RELATIONSHIP WAS REALLY SHORT ANYWAY.”
“No it wasn’t.” I intervened casually. I was an advocate of the truth so the facts had to be right concerning what me and Lana had once upon a time. “It was like 2 years, yo. We even went to Sicily and one time we enjoyed a New Year’s party in Tenerife. That was a vibe, I swear. You should’ve been there, Mark! And we got so drunk that we went outside and jumped naked into the ocean while holding our champagne. We had good times, Lana!”
“NOBODY ASKED YOU ANYTHING! DO US ALL A FAVOR AND JUST FUCK OFF. YOU BROUGHT NOTHING BUT TROUBLE. I’M CRYING NOW BECAUSE OF YOU!” She yelled at the top of her lungs, displaying red eyes of fury and rivers of tears floating down her rosy cheeks.
“That is incorrect, Lana. You made yourself cry. You choose how to react to what is happening around you. You don’t control what happens in your life but you control your response, and your response determines the nature of change. You see, it seems that your response to the current set of circumstances is not in alignment with who you really are as a person and what you really want in this life. You ought to look within and find the answers to..”
“STOP WITH THAT HIPPIE STONER BULLCRAP! YOU WERE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE. FROM ALL THE DAMN PLACES YOU CHOSE THIS EXACT SPOT WHEN I WAS WALKING OUT WITH HIM TO ENJOY SOME SUNSHINE. AND EVERYTHING WAS SIMPLY PERFECT. BUT NO, YOU HAD TO DO ALL THIS.”
“Nothing to do with me.”
“EVERYTHING TO DO WITH YOU!”
“Lana.. there’s no point.” Mark intervened. Stop all this. It’s over. We will still have our normal collaboration in the company and we’ll be civil as always, but I’m not dating you anymore. I just can’t stand this… I think it’s time I go back to work. I will see you around, I guess.”
“Mark… please…” She begged.
“No Lana, that was it.”
He walked back into the building. Lana didn’t walk. She didn’t say a word for a while. She just stood there motionless, not even blinking. It was as if she had a meditative attempt to become one with the ether or to morph into some form of energetic being which wasn’t limited by the burden of a physical body. The wind outside was making her loose hair go in various directions, creating an expressive image worth watching. You could make a painting out of that. Lana looked charming. Cold but charming.
Meanwhile, I remembered I had some cheap cranberry juice box in my pocket. I took it out and annihilated my thirst, while my eyes were still on Lana. After hearing my sipping of the cranberry juice she resumed her condition of being human and turned to me. She was calm. For a little while at least. She still didn’t say a word but those eyes staring into mine in an intensely grave manner compelled me to break the silence.
“What a jerk, that guy. Good riddance, I guess! I bet you’ll find a really nice guy soon enough. With your charms and style you’ll have absolutely no…”
“Ernesto.” She interrupted me. “Do you realize what you’ve just done?”
“What? I just came to greet you guys.” I said casually while sipping on my cranberry juice.
“SON OF A BITCH! YOU DESTROYED MY RELATIONSHIP! THAT’S WHAT YOU DID.”
“Me? Mark did it apparently. He decided to go full judgemental.” And I took another sip of my cranberry juice. It was good cranberry juice, I swear.
“Of course, you are never hold accountable when shit like this happens.” She added. “It’s never your fault, right? Never in your own fucking life it was your fault for making others feel like shit, right?! I guess there’s no way in hell you were gonna change, anyway!”
“Of course I changed. Everyone changes after getting in touch with new ideas and experiences. Experience is the greatest asset, you know?”
“YEAH? WELL HOW DID IT GO FOR YOU?” Lana went hysterical all of a sudden. “IF CHANGE TO YOU MEANS DEGENERATING INTO THE LOWEST FORM SOMEONE CAN FALL INTO, THEN YOU DID A HELL OF A JOB! AND NOW YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO GIVE OTHERS LIFE ADVICE WHILE LOOKING LIKE THE MOST SAVAGE DRUG ADDICTED SCUMBAG PIECE OF HUMAN FILTH! HOW CAN YOU LIVE WITH YOURSELF?”
“Well, you know I’m not too much into all that materialism stuff.”
“YOU KNOW WHAT? AFTER WHAT YOU DID TODAY I JUST HOPE YOU FUCKING DIE. JUST LIKE THAT. YOU RUINED THE GREAT THING I HAD WITH MARK AND YOU COULDN’T FLINCH ONE BIT. I HOPE YOU GET HIT BY A CAR GOING FULL SPEED WHILE YOU WALK STONED ON A STREET. OR EVEN BETTER. I HOPE YOU OVERDOSE ON SOMETHING WHILE GETTING AIDS OR GONORHEA FROM ONE OF YOUR HOMELESS BITCHES YOU PROBABLY ENJOY BANGING IN THE PARK AFTER MIDNIGHT.”
“Lana.. I never thought you were capable of saying shit like that…” I actually got a bit frightened. She looked absolutely demonic. Some insane devil took control over her.
“IT’S NO MORE THAN YOU DESERVE! I FUCKING HATE YOU FROM ALL MY BEING! EVERYTHING IS UGLY ABOUT YOU. YOU HEAR ME? FUCKING BASTARD! ABSOLUTELY GOOD FOR NOTHING WASTE OF SPERM BASTAAAAAAAAAAARD!!!”
It was that moment when I realized there was nothing I could do to calm down the beast inside of her. It was simply a pointless effort and I had way better things to do than to reconcile with someone in such a negative and self-destructive state. Without uttering a word I casually hopped on my bike which was standing by the bench where I spotted Lana and who seemed to be her fresh new ex-boyfriend and simply disappeared into the horizon. I could still hear Lana cussing in the same fervent manner until eventually all that anger faded away into the distance as I was reaching a more peaceful part of town where nobody would put any spell on me.
So there I was, the eclectic homeless wanderer, flying away from another destiny who fell into the timeless trap of self-tyranny. There is no one else who screws up our own timeline more than ourselves. But most of us apparently are too proud to admit it. As my two wheels kept a rolling I had that spicy dialogue vividly imprinted in my mind and gave many thoughts to it. But at the end of the day it was none of my concern and resumed my daily pursuits of a simple existence without worrying about status and all sort of imaginary societal concepts.
As my bike kept my body and mind in motion through the Danish capital, I stumbled upon 3 fellow homeless people enjoying a big pizza while sitting on a bench. We recognized each other and sent warm greetings in unison. It turned out that some Italian restaurant we all knew in the area received a pizza order and right before it was taken out of the oven, the guy ordering changed his mind and cancelled the order completely. One of the hobos from the bench knew this pizzaioli guy who happened to work that day there and received the pizza for free, just because he happened to pass by the place. So there was these people’s lunch. Without even asking, they invited me to join them and that was simply an offer you can’t refuse. I got a cigarette from them too. We all sat there for a while simply observing people rushing and hurrying to whatever place for reasons we didn’t want to know. Countless such experiences with these guys made me certain about one thing: the poor people really like the people. And I was undoubtedly a people’s man myself.
After the unexpected pizza delight my objective for that bright sunny day was to witness the gorgeous sunset over this one big lake lying outside Copenhagen. I knew a quiet sweet spot and that was exactly where I would find myself later on, holding my breath as I would admire the life-giving Sun sinking into the green horizon lying beyond the cold lake, about to end another chapter on the sky’s page before my very eyes.