I Will Fight No More Forever

by Jim on 2019/05/31

Jimbaux realizes he missed a day
He's too wrecked to care anyway
He looks around and see this face
What the hell has he lost my taste
Don't want to find out
Just want to cut out.

I broke out of prison today and enjoyed my time in this greater wallless prison.

I am truly burned out of a violent and unforgiving system in which, a decade ago, I thrived.

And I am tired of lying, so incredibly tired of lying.

This is a sick, sick, unhealthy society, especially for a neurodivergent person who feels outsized pressure to fit in or die.

Anyway, I skip the hell and get out and, in a fractured attempt to regain a shred of my sanity, search for some trains, though it seems like I did something like this under the similar circumstances six-and-a-half years ago; history repeats itself, I guess.

Here is Amtrak’s northbound Crescent passing East City Junction and approaching City Park.

I then went by NS Oliver Yard but didn’t see any trains.

The Ninth Ward is special.

But the river is swelling.

Oh, Bart Starr died!

I have been questioning everything, and I don’t see how that I could not do this.

So, I made my way back west toward an area that I wish I had more railroad action.

This is what remains of the former Southern Railway Bernadotte Line, one customer with one car.

In the above image, we are looking northwestward at what remains of what was once fairly large urban railroad yard. I have not seen a train here in a long time, and the quantity of cars seen at Masonry Products at any given time is now smaller than it was a decade ago.

I don’t know if that is because the pot-Katrina building boom is largely over, if it is because of larger trends in the railroad industry, or of it is something else, but it makes me sad.

Plenty of things make me sad.

A few things give me some hope, however.

As part of what I hope to be a personal renaissance, it’s time to get back to the gym, and, today, I got myself a gym membership once again.

It was good to be back, and I hope to get in shape again.

Later on, on this memorable mental-health day, I went to The Fly and saw the swollen river.

I feel my time in this area slipping from me. I am really not supposed to be here, I feel.

I am done, I am too old for this, and I am scarred and shattered.

What do I do now?

Anyway, I want to see some trains. I set up for the end of the day at Eagle Street, at Lampert Junction, and here comes the nightly New Orleans Public Belt Railroad movement of maritime containers from the Port Of New Orleans to the Canadian National Railway Mays Yard.

I like that view, though it is a bit dark. In the foreground is what remains of the Eagle Street spur.

Now, it was time to climb atop the truck, as the train enters CN trackage.

That’s neat!

That’s also all for the pictures. I hope that you enjoyed them.

We do have to act immediately! Why aren’t we?

There are all the feels, or whatever.

I often think that I was not made to be born here.

Is this as good as it can get?

Oh, well, I hope that you had a nice May and will have a better June, but I worry.

But at least I have broken free of that institutional hell.


{ 1 comment }

1 Steve Hanson June 8, 2020 at 20:58

I empathize with you. I just turned 71, and I am wondering what kind of planet we are leaving for our two adult sons. Sometimes I wish they would give us grandkids, but it will be even worse for that generation unless enlightenment occurs.

But trains do make things better. The Hill Country Flyer returned this past Saturday. First run since March. I was on board as a car host. Blessings to you, and enjoy your time at the gym.

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