Driving Away

I sat in my car flipping through the radio stations. Each one was pretty garbage to listen to. The first one I scanned to happened to be religious talk. I just can’t generally believe anyone who has a radio show is terribly pious. Next up classic rock, songs your suburban friends father would listen to while drinking a light nondescript American beer. Followed up quickly by top forty, to me this is just the bottom of the bottoms of music. Artists that have no idea how to sing or play their instruments, being electronically fixed to the music written by someone who has algorithms for what sells and basically is mass producing fast food music that everyone finds easy to consume but lacks all the essential nutrients that people need to grow and have meaning.

I ended up just turning the radio off. I had been driving for hours. Just following where my heart was telling me to go. Generally south and west. I don’t know why these directions were what was working, but every time I came to a decision point in the road, I would sort of just keep aiming for where the sun was going. It seemed to be working well until the sun was completely out of sight, and now I had absolutely no idea where I was.

How did I get here? No idea. I remember a few words with Clara, but something snapped, my vision sort of blurred and I know a lot of yelling happened. It almost felt like I just exited my body from the back and watched a movie that you don’t remember, just some pieces and parts scattered around your memory. She had been talking about my brother and how he had been living on our couch. I remember that. And I was defending him as he is family, and well you don’t really have a choice.

Brent had come on hard times a few months back. He was laid off of his job due to the CEO of his company wanting a pool installed at his house, and need Brent’s paycheck to get there. Some people are the absolute worst. It really wasn’t his fault, but they also found a way to make it look like negligence on the job and now he had no way of covering the gap until he found something new to pay the bills.

Clara just couldn’t deal with one more person in the house and I don’t blame her. It’s always had to work with extra people in your space. But this argument was just too much. He’s family for christ sakes. I think the last thing I said before I slammed the door shut behind me was, “Fine! well now there will be one less person in the house!” Then I got in the car and just drove. I let all the thoughts in my mind drift away and let the sound of the tires on the road drift up into my ears and sooth away the fight.

I suppose it was time to head back, as soon as I could figure out where back was. I have a long conversation to have with Brent, and some apologies to give to Clara. I know everything will work out though, it always does.

-V-

Start Over

I found myself driving mindlessly. The road in front of me, meaningless. The road behind a fading and forgotten memory, like an elusive fly. I tried to figure out where I had been for the past few months, but every grasp at the past ended in a thick fog in my mind. Snow flurries we in the sky now; slowly dropping in the distance and whipping by my car as I approached them. In the rear view mirror I could seem them settling back on their path to the ground as if I had never been there.

The cityscape seemed so far behind me now, nothing but fields around. I swear I was just immersed in tall buildings, making fast sharp turns. Feeling the extra gravity press me back into my seat. The excitement imprinted on me like a kiss from a long lost loved one, felt forevermore. But now, there were no curves, nothing to add to the feeling of movement. The world was passing around me at what felt like a snails pace.

The sun glinted and blinded me from something on the horizon. My mind raced around all the possibilities of the cause. A companion for my ride? A bridge to a new land? A town? The drive to the object seemed to last forever. And, alas I was broken to learn it was a simple sign posted on the side of the road. It read, “10 smi to Forgict.” I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this. The sign was a cool metal, but the text on it looked hand written, it was sort of elegant and sloppy at the same time, if that’s even possible.

I looked down at the gages in my car, it seemed this was the first time they had any meaning. The fuel gage was strangely dropping fast to ‘E’. Something was pulling me towards this place. Who am I to go against a greater plan? On top of that, what else could I do? I drove on.

As I crossed into the town the snow abruptly stopped. It almost looked like summer outside of my windows. I chanced it and lowered the driver’s side. A blast of fresh warm air slapped across my face. It forced it way up my nose and pressed on directly into the back of my mind. Wildflowers and clouds were the only thing I could focus on for that moment. I drove right into the center of the town and found myself stopped in front of a statute of a beautiful women with expansive wings extended behind her.

Compelled I exited the car and walked up to the sculpture. Her hands were above her holding a sword that seemed to be engulfed in flames. I locked eyes with hers, and in that brief juncture the sword burst into real flames. Her face broke free of the stone; I could see tears streaming down her face. And then she brought the sword down.

-V-

Learning How to Smile

I’d lost count of how many drinks I had imbibed at this point. I just knew that 2 more sat in front of me at the bar and I was well past the point of rational thought. I’m pretty sure I had made a good assault on all my friends in my phone via text messaging. My inebriated self was setting up a good adventure/mystery for me to solve the next day. Nothing quite like waking up to countless answered messages from friends of which you have no idea what the question was anymore. My drunken self could be a right jerk sometimes.

I could feel myself faltering in my seat. This was rare, but I was pretty sure I was in that zone, a few sips away from a very terrible night. It takes years of practice to find this sweet spot. Countless evenings heaving over white porcelain, keeping my face cooled by the tiles on the floor. Sometimes friends would be kind enough to throw a blanket on me, most nights I was left to fend for myself. Usually the last thought passing through my head is be sure to lay on my side, don’t need to go out like countless other stupid musicians. Although their adventures usually have much harder drugs involved, not just the simple old go-to of alcohol.

Knowing I didn’t have much time left before I hit the passed out phase I decided to make a run for it. I looked at my one untouched drink and figured it would be a waste to leave it there, but knowing it would absolutely be detrimental to myself I found a friend at the bar and passed them the drink. They looked at me wide-eyed and surprised, perhaps it will come back to me one day. I said my goodbye, or whatever passed for one, I’m not sure if I was able to speak clearly at this point anymore and I walked briskly to my car.

Cleverly, I had parked on the street in the direction of my home. My keys made it into the lock of my car with little effort and I felt this would be an easy trip home. With the car started I pulled out into traffic. Reality hit me faster than I was prepared for. My vision had gone double. I was way drunker than expected. I had two choices now, drive for the center of what I could see between the extra lanes in front of me and hope for the best, or close one eye. I clamped one eye shut and got myself home within minutes, luckily I only lived a few blocks away.

The rest of the night blacked out I awoke to a phone full of return messages. ‘Great!’ I sarcastically thought to myself. I was taken aback at one message in particular:

It is best to start facing a mirror. Sitting, standing, or whatever is comfortable. Using your left cheek muscle lift the left corner of your mouth upward. Repeat on the right using your right cheek muscles. You will see now that your mouth is in a curve shape. From here you can experiment with keeping your mouth closed, opening your mouth and showing teeth, and a variety of different smile options. Work with it and really make it your own.

It was in response to my message: “I think I forgot how to smile…” After reading this I don’t think I will ever forget again, nor will I ever chance a drive like that again.

-V-

Yargo (Part 2)

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Walter was a man who enjoyed music very much. He was a firm believer that music soothed the savage beast (and was unsure about the effects regarding the normal beast). Through his hangover realized that he had no music playing in his car, even though there did seem to be a random percussionist beating on a large assortment of items in his head.

He was deeply perturbed when he reached down to turn on the stereo and his hand met with a void where the power switches used to be, he felt he needed to inspect further. The entire rest of drive to work he spent assuring himself that the missing stereo needed a break from the daily grind and would probably return itself to the car later that day.

The trip to work was an exceptional drive for Walter, as he nearly caused six accidents without even being aware of it. He believed that it must have been some newly sanctioned car horn-honking holiday. Every person in a car that passed him had something descriptive to say, but since his muffler seemed to be on holiday with his stereo, he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He imagined they were complementing his extraordinary driving technique.

Walter was surprised that he was able to get to work on time and felt his day was actually starting to shape up, but when he got there some jerk with a red sports car had parked in his parking spot. The hate began to swell up inside of him. He had been parking in this spot for seven years now. How could anyone not know this by now?

He needed revenge and he needed it fast, so he parked his car in the corner of the parking lot, placed his sharpest key in his hand and nonchalantly walked into work. A person with a very acute sense of hearing might have heard a scratching sound of metal on metal, but thank the powers for Walter, no one was around.

Have you ever wanted to be invisible? You might think it would be great (you know sneak into the girls changing room, and what not). But to have no one, save cockroaches, acknowledge your existence (and only because when you happen to step on one it makes a crunchy, squishy noise) is bad. This was the feeling Walter got as he entered is work building.

It probably would not have been so bad, thought Walter, had it not been for the door: when the automatic door doesn’t even recognize you in front of it, then you know you have a problem. He walked smack into the glass door. He had to wait for someone else to come along and actuate the door, so he could get in.

Walter finally got to his boss’s office door, after much rubbing of various parts of his body from other run-ins with objects that didn’t bother to get out of his way like the soda machine in the hallway. He gently knocked upon the door. A sickly, raspy voice as if having had smoked about ten thousand too many cigarettes called out.

-V-

Read Part 3

A World Alone (Part 4)

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I get this car going? I get myself out to the airport as fast as I can. Runways are a great place to test your mettle, long and flat and straight. I pull the car to the end of the runway. I let the engine rip away, the car stutters and grips the tarmac. The speedometer rises with reckless abandon. I get it up to 150 before I realize that this is stupid and extremely scary. I start braking, but the breaks lock up and I spin out of control barreling down the runway spinning. Real fear rips into my heart.

I think back to my original assessment that this whole situation is a dream. Right now this is too real. I would have surely woken up by this point. The car goes off the end of the runway, I’m in grass and dirt, it comes to an abrupt halt as it smashes into a large pole that I assume pilots use to assist them getting planes safely on the ground. I pass out. Not sure how long I’ve been out I awake in the car still, my whole body is sore. I’ve never been in this much pain in a dream before. This can’t be a dream.

Reality sinks in. This isn’t a cruel joke, this isn’t a dream, this just is. I get myself unstuck from the inside of the car. No broken bones, I’ve had those before. I’d be sure if I had any. It’s a long walk off the runway, but at least airports have rental car places located nearby. I find a reliable car, and zip off to find food. For some reason the hunger right now is greater than I’ve had the whole time I’ve been here. Perhaps I passed out for a longer than I originally thought.

I find a grocery store and ransack it for anything that is easy to eat and satiate myself. After I stuff myself, I sit in the isle and stare into the middle distance. I think, is this really it? This is how it ends for me? I’ll be without anyone to converse with, to hold, to touch, to share my life with. Alone. I wonder what is it all worth then? Why even bother? But that’s not the way to think. It’s not futile. There will be something, possibly someone out there, eventually. I just have to be okay with myself until then.

I find acceptance in my own head. I figure if someone eventually comes either I’ll be here, or I won’t and I should leave something behind for him or her. So I start to paint. I start to record music. I create. I build sculptures. I find that I by myself will be okay. Acceptance. At that precise moment, everything starts going dark, my vision, my hearing, and my feeling. It’s as if I’m slipping through a very fast tunnel. Sucking my through, compressed and free at the same time.

I look up and there she is. Staring down at me, tears in her eyes. “You’re finally back.”

“Back?” I reply.

“Yes!” She exclaims. Her warm tears fall on my face.

-V-

A World Alone (Part 1)

The day everyone disappeared. I was lying in bed, awake, as usual. Every night for the past week I would lay down and my thoughts would start to run away. Insomnia can be a real killer. Each day starts to blur together, and time doesn’t feel as real as it used to, two days ago could seem like weeks; a month ago, only yesterday. I would sit there and wonder if this was some type of omen. I would leave the window open and stare out at what few stars I could see. It seems no amount of words can really explain feelings.

Finally the sun was coming up. I figured I would drive over to her house and wake her up with the present of a Red Bull; she was always on my mind. Anywhere I would go, something would remind me of her. A plastic flower in another girl’s hair, a scent would drift into my car, as I would drive at night to try and tire myself out, a random dog sitting on the street corner, a glittering object in the distance, every thrift store and bookshop. Anytime I would see something I knew she would like I would be sure to go out of my way to acquire it for her, cost or trade, it didn’t matter.

Even the car had a scent of her lingering from the previous night. Just hanging in the air as a reminder of the possibilities, the dreams, the joys to come. Key in ignition, it started as it always had, a click, a sputter. The engine jumped to life. I was excited; I’m always excited to see her. My heart skips a beat just thinking about it. Calm down, I tell myself. I put the car in reverse and begin the journey to her home.

Traffic seems exceptionally light, in fact, I don’t pass a single other car. Is it a holiday? No, I think I would have remembered that. But then again, my memory is kind of shit at times. Perhaps there’s a motorcade coming through town today, and I missed the bulletins, but then there would be police blocking my progress. I turn on to her street. Her car sits just outside her home. I know I’m just moments away from seeing the girl I adore beyond any I have known before.

Drinks in hand, I mount the steps of her porch and knock on the door. There is no reply. I try again, but this time I bang on the door, figuring she is just asleep. Five minutes go by, then ten, then twenty, and no response. I am getting concerned. I know she keeps a spare key tucked away in a fake rock hidden around the back of her house. Her and I are not quite to the point of really being in each others houses without the other present, and certainly not uninvited, but something feels really wrong. What if she fell while taking a shower and is lying there by the bathtub, life leaving her, and I’m the only chance she has of survival. I figure, in this case my trespass can be safely excused if I’m wrong.

-V-

Read Part 2