(no subject)
November 2003
All children imprisoned in parent-dominated domestication yearn for a liberating nightlife,
so, of course, we were obliged by the collective moaning of our counterparts to escape and
explore the deep crevices of the big city. The circulation of the brute was established through
supernovas of touched-up Hondas passing old Fords ecstatically on interlocking interstate highways. It was all so very high energy- the symphony of lighters clicking tame flames, the distant jazz beats whispering over the radio.
The vibe I was feeling, at that particular moment in time at that particular stretch of the road, mile 462, was not one which I could casually observe: it was easily possessing me. I had longing, painful cravings of exploding in extravagant detail my minute-to-minute observations, revelations and realization to every single passenger of that small, tiny automobile but remained strong, strident and silent. The others were each withdrawn to their own confined, claustrophobic little minds and bitter at even the whisper of casual conversation.
I finally decided to simply roll down my passenger car window, thinking that perhaps I could feel a ghost fly past me to heaven. Or to hell. Either way, the hard push forced my hair in cumulative directions as I pushed back to get more of my shoulders out the window.
Now, the driver saw this, and became irritated.
"Godammit, man. Get your head the fuck out of the window! You want a cop to stop us?" he asked.
"Fuck you," I replied. "I like it like this. It feels great, man, this wind. Like a fucking roller-coaster!”
"You're going to slip and die," Palm tree girl suggested.
"Suck a dick," I countered. I now unbuckled my seat belt and began to climb out the window. Weak hands attempted to pull me back in, but I was determined.
"Let go! I have to tell something to the ghosts!" I yelled.
"Well, hurry the hell up then, you crazy bastard, and get back inside the car!" the driver exclaimed.
I inhaled deeply and screamed. "Chowdah! Chowdah! Chowdah! Chowdah! Chow…”
The car began to swerve to the left as a strong hand grabbed my collar and pulled me back in the car. The driver's eyebrows were furrowed to the extent that they would pick up his eyes and launch them in separate directions. The wrinkles in his forehead closed in to make a large fingerprint. His lips exposed his rock-boulder teeth, dull and yellow and not at all synchronous.
"Sit still, or I'm dropping you off at the next rest area, where you will have to call your folks to pick you up. You got that?"
"Yes sir," I replied, and crossed my arms.
The car was drifting now as I rolled up the window. On both sides of the road was the huge expanse of the bay, its aggressive, agitated water smashing against the bridge in feeble attempts to overturn the road. The palm trees that passed us indeed looked like an army of tall soldiers, but I did not approve of them. Most had been drafted.
hah hah look at that piece of crap
i suck