January 6, 2009

I Drove All Night

I love to drive. I crank up the volume, I carparty, I drink too much soda, I get crumbs all over the seat.

Yesterday, I woke up in a dark room tinged blue from a powercord. I kept trying not to listen to the minutes going by, ticking down to the time when I 'd have to leave that bed.

When it happened, I drove away, northward through the mountains and the snow, into the small town, the place I live. I picked up my mail, I opened an embarrasing number of cards from friends who haven't heard from me in a while.

I drove so much. I'm exhausted. But I can't stop. Even now, I'm rushing off somewhere. The place-- another car garage--is part snowlight, part oilstained concrete.

I'm in the place I live. It was only 7 hours I drove, but I feel the time thrumming in my body. It vibrates and pulses. It feels like you do when it's only been 24 hours and -- goddamnit -- you're already missing him.

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