Jan 13, 2016 23:58
“Well, imagine that your life is a car,” I responded, finding it rather fortuitous that we were sitting in one. “So you get used to driving the car, you’ve been driving cars forever anyway, and so now you’re just in this, I don’t know, this auto-pilot kind of mode when you drive.”
“Is this really answering my question?”
[I don’t know, really. I know I began to embark on an answer, or meant to, but I’ve been smoking a good deal of weed lately, and it suddenly occurred to me that I was doing that thing again where I back it way up and begin to speak in really broad, guarded generalities. At least consciously, this is not intentional.]
“Yeah, just bear with me. What I’m getting at [ah ha!] is that it just becomes this easy reflex, you know, some sixth sense. And that’s dangerous, because you’ve got to pay attention sometimes to make sure you’re not going too fast or too slow. You’ve got to know when to rev it up, and when to hit the brakes.”
“Okay…”
“So when I came back here, it was to do that. To hit the brakes. It was a busy year, Key West, New York, a lot of stimulation, maybe overstimulation, and I came back to town, like I always do, to slow it down. I needed a break.”
“So…”
“So my break is over. And it’s not your fault.”