Lindsey (voglio_cambiare) wrote,

  • Mood:

the drive home.

Driving home from Alex's house tonight I was certain I would die. I felt it in my heart and in my soul. (I hate that expression, by the way. I'll paint these cliches on walls with sponges.) I knew it was going to happen, it had to. I felt so sure.

I almost hit a deer. It came out of nowhere and seemed to fade away as I closely, just barely passed it. I closed my eyes for a split second and sped up. I felt alive and I kept speeding.

I drove closer and closer to my house, inhaling menthol cigarette smoke into my lungs. Drag after drag I imagined the impact. I could close my eyes and envision the blazing headlights of a semi filling my windshield. I could hear the roar, the annoyed horn blaring urging me to get the fuck out of the way.
I opened my eyes and was greeted with darkness.
Nothing was there.
No semi.
No tree.
No telephone pole.
No deer.
In fact, nothing at all to crash in to.

My demise wasn't waiting for me. I felt sad. Not for my death, but for this feeling not being true.

I flicked my cigarette out the window and watched the orange embers twirl and suddenly go out on the asphalt behind me.

How could a feeling so strong be untrue.

In the distance I saw red flashing lights. I quickly turned the volume of the radio down to really concentrate on these blinking lights. I knew what it was, but I wished for something different.
I approached the railroad tracks with little discretion for my well being. I, again, closed my eyes, applied forced pressure to the gas and waited for the impact. I put down the windows and listened for the train whistle.
I heard nothing.
Silence, only silence, except for my racing heart and speeding car. I gripped the wheel and hoped for a train.
Again, nothing.

I crossed the smooth tracks with anger and frustration. I didn't necessarily want to die, I just felt like I was going to.
I was ready.

I searched the radio frequencies trying to find the perfect song to die to. I couldn't simply select a cd, I had to find a song on the radio. It had to be more than a song. It had to be a sign from something higher. It had to have more meaning than mere notes and lyrics.
This too came up short.

I turned the volume off and waited for another feeling to guide me.

Then I realized I've wasted time dying instead of living.

I wrote this really early in the morning today. I really thought I was going to die last night. I wasn't suicidal by any means, I just felt like that was in the cards. My life would end then. And I was completely calm about it. I pictured my funeral and got sad, but I've told Alex before that I don't want anyone to mourn me. I want to be celebrated. I want others to live life like I do. I want my favorite food to be eaten, music to be playing and a joint to be passed around.
I imagined watching down on all of this.

I was so speedy last night.
I've been so speedy lately.
Thanks to pills.
The past couple of nights have been nothing but a haze of powder snorted off of cd cases and magazines, bowls of ancient weed [i think, anyway] and disgusting Steak 'n Shake coffee.
It's been a nice vacation, but it's back to reality. At least until I get some valiums on Saturday.
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