I Don't Know What to Say

The shadows grow longer. Sunlight turns into a memory. Something that will be felt again. But not tonight. The light that swirls through the street is cast by small lamps above pub doors. A dense glow falls through the windows of the bars. The muffled noise of drunk people excited for the weekend hangs in the air. Music erupts from an open door. Full bars and an empty street. A door swings open. Two men walk through together, accompanied by the smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke as they step into the beginning of the night. One closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The other puts on his jacket, claps his companion on the shoulder, and together they start to walk through the dark.

I: I don’t know what to say.

O: What do you mean by that?

I: I … I just don’t know. 

O: Come on. Use your words.

I: It’s just … I really don’t …. Life became so hard. I am getting older, you know. I am not 

like I used to be. I am ...tired; I've lost my drive, my ambition. What am I doing with my life?

O: Hey, now. Come on. Sure, life isn’t like it used to be. We aren’t teenagers anymore. And yeah, okay, a bit of energy got lost on the way, but it hasn’t just vanished. We used that energy. We partied. We drank and screamed. We went out all night, and the next day we did it again. What do you expect? That there would be no cost at all? 

I: Yes. Maybe. No, okay, of course not. I just didn’t expect it all to end so soon. I mean it feels like only yesterday that we all met up at Margret’s place. We smoked. We danced. We argued about fucking philosophy and the meaning of life. But we didn’t really care. We were too young to actually know what these great philosophers meant when they talked about the meaning of life. And now look at us. What happened? Margret is married and soon to be a mother. Lora is working for some social media organization. I mean what happened to her dream of becoming an investigative journalist? What became of doing something for the greater good, huh? And what about Jamie and her fancy office job? That’s nothing but money. I mean, she bought a damn sports car just for fun. Being more capitalistic isn’t possible, is it? I don’t even know what Keith is doing. He just took off, never to be seen again. And that’s after Nate fucking died. What is the point of all this? We were supposed to be together forever. To make a better world. To change things, and now look at us. Me? A failure. A degree but no employment. No money in a commercialized society means to be fucking dead. And you, huh? What about you, Owen? Our philosophical wonderchild. Our personal Max Weber. So much knowledge, so much cleverness captured in one mind. And what are you doing with it? Nothing!

O: Hey, you prick. Calm down now, will you? You give me too much credit. 

I: I do not, and you fucking know it.

O: It’s enough, okay? Stop swearing. Stop raging for a second. I might be smart. I might be interested in the world. But you can’t just make off with gaining knowledge. The world just isn’t built like that. Nor the society we live in. The social contract of morality is keeping together what we have. It makes it possible to live in this world. And yeah, that might not be perfect. Not even close to that. But what else can we do than deal with it and make the best of it? We have to live. To find a realistic purpose in life. Not just running after the dream of utopia. And it will not be what we thought when we were young and careless. And you know why that is, Ian? It is because we were idealistic, dumb, and unrealistic.

I: Not true.

O: We wanted so much. And hey, it’s not that I don’t want that anymore. But who will achieve it? Who will break the system and create a new one? Who has the formula that structures the whole universe in an improved way? It’s not going to be me. I am just a guy trying to find a way for himself to live in this world without hurting all the time. And maybe, if I am lucky, I will even find some happiness in it.

I: That is all you want? Some happiness? What became of the young man I knew, who wanted to burn down the world and rebuild it? 

O: He grew up. Look, Ian, I know you are stuck in our old times—in how it used to be. But these times are over. You have to move on. You have to start living in this world like the adult you are supposed to be. 

I: That means to give up. It means to stop growing and learning. You all just threw away your fucking beliefs to sit in a nice cozy life that leaves behind everything we were standing for. Sometimes I believe Nate was the lucky one of us. Dying young. Cliff diving for fun. I fucking cursed the rock he hit down there in the sea. I cursed him for jumping. I cursed him for having such a dangerous hobby. I could have killed him myself for dying just like that. But now? Now, I believe maybe that rock was a fucking blessing. He died the way he lived. Adventurous. Without regrets. In the best state of mind and body. He was standing on the peak of life. And then he just left. Admirable. 

O: Admirable? Ian, get a hold of yourself. Nate was always standing on the edge of life. Crossing the border and calling for danger. Risking your life doesn’t make you undefeatable. It is a shame that he died so young. It is a tragedy. He could have lived a long, happy life. He could have found more, learned more, developed more. Look at Margret. What is so wrong with being married and having a child? Why is that supposed to be bad? Yeah, she might have changed. And yes, she isn’t the same young woman we used to know. But that doesn’t mean that that is a bad thing. She is happy. Isn’t that worth anything to you? And if you want a philosophical approach that legitimize that, then think about what humans are made for? If we look at it from a biological aspect, humans need to reproduce. If you think about it from a social perspective, a new generation must be raised to carry the society we live in. And maybe your wish will be fulfilled, and the next generation will actually change something. Maybe Margret’s child will lead the movement of change this world needs. 

I: No. Owen. No. Just no. It is supposed to be us. It is supposed to be you and me and Margret and Lora, Jamie, Nate, and Keith. We were supposed to be the ones who bring change. Who brings the fucking change? And not grow into what our parents are. Into this dull existence of living a quiet white middle-class life that ignores the downfall of the world. 

O: You know what, Ian? I don’t know what is holding you back. If you see the need for change? If you see a solution for the misery this world has become, then do it. Go out there, stop whining, and just do it.

I: You sound like a “Nike” advertisement. 

O: No man, listen up. What is stopping you? You want to change the world. Go on then. You are unhappy; change it. You feel anger against me, against all of us? Then leave us behind. Find the people who will go the way you want to go with you. If you believe—if you truly believe in it—then don’t let me stop you. I made my choice. Make your own.

I: I don’t know. That’s what I mean. I got stuck. Maybe you are right in the end, and there is no change. But I just refuse to believe that. 

O: Don’t be stupid, now. You want to follow a different path, then you must create it. You may judge me for my choices. But I live in peace with myself. Can you say the same of yourself when you make the choice I made? Go out there. Fight for what you believe in. Maybe you are right. Maybe you even change something. But even if not, who cares? Live for what you believe in. 

I: Fight with me. Go down this path with me. 

O: I can’t. I lost faith. I am not a believer anymore. 

I: This is not a fucking religion. 

O: All wars are religious wars. They might not be fought for a god, but they are fought for a belief, an ideology, something bigger than just one person. You know that. I am standing here in a world where I live a good life. I am part of a society that won’t last, but in the end, which society ever lasted? There must come an end. And maybe I just have grown indifferent. Maybe I am just tired. Maybe I turned blind. But I decided on my path.

I: That is irresponsible. That is what we accuse our parents of. That is literally what we blame the generations before us for. How can you be so easily corrupted into the same ignorance?

O: I never said I am strong enough. Brave enough. I am just a human. Don’t I deserve peace? 

I: Is that the human nature, though? Simply being at peace?

O: It is what we are searching for. Yeah, I believe that. 

I: It is a fucking illusion. There is no peace. There is just destruction if we go on like that. Why are you not seeing it?

O: I do see it. 

I: Then why will you not help me?

O: I just can’t. 

I: What do you mean by that?

O: I am sorry.

I: Don’t fucking apologize. Explain yourself. Use your words.

O:  I don’t know what to say.

A while ago, the cheerful music of the pubs vanished behind the two men. The lights surrounding the path are bright. Piercing lights that brighten the darkened streets. Cameras and flourishing light. They blind the eyes who could have spotted the stars in the night sky. Industrial buildings with closed gates stand tall around the paved road. A city that is never silent. And yet two men walking a path through the night in deafening silence. 

Story and cover photo by India Wittmershaus.