My Friend Johnny Got Himself Killed

Day after day Johnny lived a life in Hell
No one loved him, no one hated him;
He was just a figure occupying space.
He lived alone in a 3rd avenue suite,
Living on damp toast and dried-up cigars.
At night, he remained alone in his bed,
Staring up at the ceiling full of holes,
Sulking and dreading his own future.

Every morning he woke up to the site of Gotham,
The sounds of vehicle horns, rattling elevated trains,
The scream of a jet liner overhead, the testing of ballistics off the Hudson river
The gossip gossip gossip of the gossipers in the flats above, the arguing and sulking of a broken lovers,
Crashing dishes, screaming babies, screeching tires, raging police sirens, distant gunshots, thudding jackhammers, drivers yelling in foreign tongues, waves waves waves of economical resources crowding the streets, swarming, grabbing, taking, ignorant, stupid, feeble, they do not know what is right for them.

And Johnny grabbed his coat and walked right into the middle of the street,
Staring at the dismal scene that hovered above, around, and next to his physical being.
He grabbed his hat, all tattered and bent, and moaned out loud.
Cars screeched to a halt around him while he stood in the middle of traffic.
The officers and drivers scoffed and yelled at him,
Johnny didn’t say anything, he didn’t do anything.
For a whole minute he stood silent, staring up at the sky above.

He left the scene and was lost within the swarms of the avenue crowds.
He found himself in an alley behind the Lincoln building.
There, he walked in silence, he was safe.
The sounds of rushing sewer vermin didn’t bother him,
Nor did the black void that consumed him.

There, before him, a bright billboard screen flickered on.
A loud voice came from the board speaker chanting,
“Did you ever just want to go far away,
To escape that nagging wife, that stupid boss,
Or that dead-end life you know you can’t escape.
Well think no more, come and take a job
At OUTER SPACE WAYS INCORPORATED!”

So he signed up and ran off to get a job,
He told me it was a venture into the outer
Reaches of the universe where he can get
Away from the hell that is earth.

I heard about this company, and I heard rumors about people who gave into the temptation and allure of space travel. Many pencil pushers and minorities took the opportunity, and many of them were never heard of again.

Yet, on April 30, 2134, Johnny left Earth for the moon.
At one level, I was jealous and overjoyed.
He now left the one place where he didn’t matter.
He was going to be someone, a space traveler,
Away from the earth, away from the cars, people, chaos, frenzy, toils, and mediocrity of earth.
Two months passed, and I received this letter:

"How stupid was I, to believe space was devoid of the evil of the human race.
Yet, when I left the planet, I was filled with hope as earth’s dark soot-filled clouds
Gave way to the dark void glistening with stars. My heart had sunk with relief as I
First saw the outer sphere of the moon. Plain, empty, devoid of the creations of man.
The space transport slowly made its way into the moon’s shadows, and there was a
City, much like the ones that exist on earth. Lethargic, exploding with inhuman
Progress, I wanted to jump out of the space ship and die within the dark, dense air of space.
Our space transport landed and all of the passengers were shuttled like cattle onto
A space, magnet-powered train that went out into the outer confines of the moon.
I thought for a moment that I was going to escape the evil of man once again.
Then, our train came to a complete stop, and what followed still makes my eyes
Shut with tears pouring down my face. Swarms, swarms, of humans, in makeshift space
Gear mining and digging into the ground of the moon. Mining trains thundered by as carts
Were wheeled out from the inner caverns dug out by the new peasants. Overseerers stood with
Newly-advanced ion-laser guns, watching us like vultures, waiting for one of us to falter, to
Give up, to revolt! Every day we worked in twelve hour shifts, eating food that looked like rocks, perhaps they were, and there, on the other side of the moon were the industrialists, scientists, bureaucrats and bastards who jeered at our sweat, laughing as we died from mine collapses and falling rocks, and the piles of rotted flesh dumped into craters like rocks mistaken for gems. Thanks be to the Almighty One, I will be far away at the moment when you receive this correspondence. The day before I wrote this letter, several miners got together and formed a coalition to revolt at the mining site. By the time the sun hit out mining camp, several dozen men seized the large drill locomotive and derailed it from its make-shift rails. I sought the opportunity to escape, running fast, with several oxygen tanks in stow. I looked back, only to see the ensuing carnage that can only be compared to that banned book you gave me by that Joseph Conrad. I saw the heart of darkness in space as troops gunned down, some of whom smiled in great joy as they committed their genocidal act. Bodies fell, limps blew apart, faces maimed, and bullets piercing oxygen valves. They fell like dominoes as if they were part of some perverted game of boss versus employee. I turned away from the Horror. I found a space transport and returned to the main base, leaving this letter in the chute to outgoing mail to earth. I hope you receive it soon. I will be leaving the clutches of man. Even though, there is no way I can survive in the outer reaches of space, I will go as far as the moon bus can take me. Good bye, my dear friend Warren, you may be one of the only people who can help to change the world.

Your best friend,
Johnny Dent”

I can’t blame him for escaping the realm of humanity,
Yet he left to a region where he cannot survivie.
Where or not he was aware of this still bothers me,
I ask myself, “Did Johnny Kill Himself, or Did Johnny Get Himself Killed.”