driving home...
i'm stopped at the red light...i spend most nights stopped at this light, leading off of 80 west and onto morris county road 513...a car drives by...he is speeding, going far to fast for the road, even with the speed limit of 45...i wonder where the cops are, and then realize they are all probably at the accident that i just had to sit through a mile back...
i look over my left shoulder at the shell station...one of the yellow and red lights are flickering, not quite able to keep up with its partners...i think how funny it would be if the "s" blew out, and then how comically tragic it would actually be...flickering lights always make me feel like i am in the mid west...i don't know why, i just associate them that way...i take a sip of diet dr. pepper...i always drink diet...it isn't much better than regular, and probably far worse but i don't really care...i haven't drunk it in a long time, trying to stay away from caffeine for both dryness and acid reflux but tonight i don't care...i feel the gas bubbles burn my esphogus and run down...i haven't eaten since 4 and it is almost 11 and i can feel the liquid running along the insides of my stomach, as if it is sticking to the the sides, trying to relieve the hunger i am blatently ignoring...i figure that i'll probably eat something...i feel self destructive tonight...that is why i have the soda, that is why i don't give a fuck about dryness or acid reflux...
the light turns green...i make the left hand turn onto the empty road...i hear my car squeak...the sound of the tires in the wheel wells and the sound of the steering wheel...i watch my hands moving in the dark, they are so pale that i can see them clearly against the black of the wheel and eerily lite by the green lights on my dash board...they are covered in cuts from when i took care of the coffee retail at work about a week ago and scraped my hands constantly against the metal shelves...by now the red gashes have become purple scars, nothing more than darker shadows against my skin...
i wonder if my car had always made those noises, if it just happened that the music wasn't loud enough to cover it tonight...i consider going all the way down greenpond, maybe turning off onto 23 and then onto clinton road, or maybe finally going all the way up that dirt road that leads to camp marsalla...i don't...there is a green light and the road is still deserted...i turn onto sanders road...i stopped talking to myself back before parsippany...there really was nothing more to say to myself that i didn't already know...
i look over my left shoulder at the shell station...one of the yellow and red lights are flickering, not quite able to keep up with its partners...i think how funny it would be if the "s" blew out, and then how comically tragic it would actually be...flickering lights always make me feel like i am in the mid west...i don't know why, i just associate them that way...i take a sip of diet dr. pepper...i always drink diet...it isn't much better than regular, and probably far worse but i don't really care...i haven't drunk it in a long time, trying to stay away from caffeine for both dryness and acid reflux but tonight i don't care...i feel the gas bubbles burn my esphogus and run down...i haven't eaten since 4 and it is almost 11 and i can feel the liquid running along the insides of my stomach, as if it is sticking to the the sides, trying to relieve the hunger i am blatently ignoring...i figure that i'll probably eat something...i feel self destructive tonight...that is why i have the soda, that is why i don't give a fuck about dryness or acid reflux...
the light turns green...i make the left hand turn onto the empty road...i hear my car squeak...the sound of the tires in the wheel wells and the sound of the steering wheel...i watch my hands moving in the dark, they are so pale that i can see them clearly against the black of the wheel and eerily lite by the green lights on my dash board...they are covered in cuts from when i took care of the coffee retail at work about a week ago and scraped my hands constantly against the metal shelves...by now the red gashes have become purple scars, nothing more than darker shadows against my skin...
i wonder if my car had always made those noises, if it just happened that the music wasn't loud enough to cover it tonight...i consider going all the way down greenpond, maybe turning off onto 23 and then onto clinton road, or maybe finally going all the way up that dirt road that leads to camp marsalla...i don't...there is a green light and the road is still deserted...i turn onto sanders road...i stopped talking to myself back before parsippany...there really was nothing more to say to myself that i didn't already know...