The Marionette

Part 0 - Depression

Throughout my entire life I was naive enough to think that every man creates his own destiny. The thought of not being in control, not being free even in your mind, not having any choice would drive me insane. I often not questioned if I possess any free will or am I just a leaf, floating around by the wind. I just assumed there is no such thing as fate. Until I got visited by her, in my dreams. She came to me as a middle aged, blonde woman. She handed a plane ticket to me. One way ticket to Gambia. A country I haven't even heard of before. She told me that I shall visit, even if it is the last thing I will ever do. I have given no reason yet I did fly over to Gambia without a second thought. After the plane landed I have found myself in heaven. I was surrounded by people with smile, most beautiful beaches my eyes could ever see, tall skyscrapers almost seemed to built solely as a challenge to the god. All the buildings had perfect harmony with the surrounding nature. The city was full of green, every shades of it but yet not without a touch of civilization. And the ocean, ah the ocean. I could swear I felt that breeze on my face even though it was just a dream. Wherever I gaze upon I only fell in love with this place even more. The sky was all blue with a few clouds as ornament. The sun had the loveliest orange tinge I have ever seen. Even the air I breathed felt different. My soul was elevated and I was full of joy. I was having the happiest moments of my life. This place Gambia surely is a heaven in disguise, I thought. How it comes I have never heard of this country? Those greedy bastards. They wanted it all for themselves. They managed to hide away a whole damn country so that her beauty cannot be stained by filthy tourists like me.

Like every beautiful dream, it had to come to an end. I woke up with only one question in mind. Where the fuck is Gambia? Is there even such place? I have never even heard the word, yet alone knowing that it is an actual country located in West Africa at that moment. After all, I could barely even count a handful of African countries. After this blissful dream I was back to my miserable life. Yet again I woke up in my dreadful little room located in an old, filthy apartment floor I shared with 3 other people. A prime example of a wasted life. I never managed to find a greater purpose, a meaning or perhaps passion but I for sure always wished to become rich, to become famous, someone with influence maybe. At the very least a wife and children. A happy life. Yet, here I stand as a 35 year old loser working on a dead end job as an accountant for a leather belt manufacturer. Barely earning enough to have a roof over my head. Only luxury I had was a shitbox of a car that only ran when it felt like it. I had some asshole high school friends I occasionally hung out with and they never felt shy to say it to my face how big of a fucking failure I am. I had my fair share of love affairs if you can call it that but they always ended up in disaster. I never came across a lady that could just look beyond all my misfortune. Most nights I found myself questioning how it all ended up like this. Surely, I was not a hard working man with exceptional talent but throughout my childhood and teenage years, I was a successful student and was getting all sorts of compliments. Most people said I have an artistic mind and should pursue a career that fits my talent but my family on the other hand thought that it is just a waste of time. Not long after graduating from high school, all my passion for art has vanished. I never had any plans of being the next Salvador Dali anyways. It was just a pastime activity that brought me a lot of joy in the past but being overly critical of my work and comparing myself to other people who had much more talent, made it impossible for me to enjoy drawing or painting. Just like that, my art career was over even before it started. After wasting a small chunk of my life in college, I ended up being the failure I am. Midway upon the journey of my life I found myself trapped around these walls.

I was almost late for the job. I skipped the breakfast that day like I always did and took the bus. I much rather sacrifice my breakfast than my dreams. And it was a fair trade that day. I arrived just on time. I dragged my ass to my office and started working. I was not so eager to see my bitchy manager that day but she came to my office to yell at me not long after, as she always did. I was basically doing 5 person job all by myself but it wasn't enough. I often got into an argument with her because of leaving without finishing the day's work. I was not getting paid enough to work overtime and neither I had energy for that. After getting my daily dose of rebuking, she left me alone and I spent rest of the day putting numbers on spreadsheets. Days were passing just like that. I was feeling like a hamster trapped in a tiny little cage, running inside a wheel, one day after the another, with no greater goal.