existentialism?
during race/bike week after a long stressful ten hour day at school, i'm driving to Thaer's house among ridiculous traffic on international spdway. blvd. (of all places,) waiting to get onto ninety five. i hit every red light. there are cars all around me. it's taking for ever.. "fuck it" i say. instead of waiting at three more lights, i decided to take williamson and jump on the interstate there. right before i got to the light to turn left, an ambulance was coming behind me with the sirens on and i pulled over and waited for it to get around me and at that moment i realised there was some sort of emergency somewhere nearby that was probably tragic. i sat on my break for a good ten seconds thinking to myself, "wow that's probably the fifth time i've seen a sirened vehicle go by in only a few days and it's the very first time i actually thought anything of it. "
i turn onto williamson and am stuck between cars in front/back of and side-to-side of me. so i'm driving all slow because i was a little anxious. i think i was going about 30 mph and i had my window 3/4 of the way down. i just finished a cigarette and coming up onto a red light. i'm easing on the break and i throw my cig butt out the window and it flies forward and the wind blows it back in from of my car and it drops down into the little space between my hood and my windsheld. down by my engine. i'm thinking, "oh shit how did that happen?"
the light turns green and i go.
smoke rises from my hood and i can smell it. the mix of gas and burning paper and tobacco.
my first instinct is to pull over and get it out.
the smoke starts to burn my eyes.
it's coming into my car through the air vents.
i'm thinking to myself, "my car is probably going to blow up and i'm going to die."
but the traffic is flowing and i could care less really.
the thoughts going on in my head were not logical or normal.
there's a chance my car could blow up and i would be dead..
but in my mind i'm thinking who fucking cares?
i don't care. my dad and brother most likely won't care.
i wonder what their reaction would be.
they' probably think it was drug/alcohol related.
my mom would be upset, but it would be one less financial burden on her.
it would make things easier on her, without a doubt.
it could even maybe bring her and my brother closer together with the loss of myself.
thaer might care, yeah, but he'd get over it and move on to someone else soon enough.
someone less needy that would make him much happier than i.
i have no close friends who would mourn.
no one would even come to my wake or funeral.
so i just kept on driving and got onto ninety five.
drove with a dull glaze over my face. thinking nothing.
waiting to see if something happens, but not nervous about it.
this is a perfect example of how i have been thinking lately.
pretty scary maybe to you, but i could care fucking less really.
i turn onto williamson and am stuck between cars in front/back of and side-to-side of me. so i'm driving all slow because i was a little anxious. i think i was going about 30 mph and i had my window 3/4 of the way down. i just finished a cigarette and coming up onto a red light. i'm easing on the break and i throw my cig butt out the window and it flies forward and the wind blows it back in from of my car and it drops down into the little space between my hood and my windsheld. down by my engine. i'm thinking, "oh shit how did that happen?"
the light turns green and i go.
smoke rises from my hood and i can smell it. the mix of gas and burning paper and tobacco.
my first instinct is to pull over and get it out.
the smoke starts to burn my eyes.
it's coming into my car through the air vents.
i'm thinking to myself, "my car is probably going to blow up and i'm going to die."
but the traffic is flowing and i could care less really.
the thoughts going on in my head were not logical or normal.
there's a chance my car could blow up and i would be dead..
but in my mind i'm thinking who fucking cares?
i don't care. my dad and brother most likely won't care.
i wonder what their reaction would be.
they' probably think it was drug/alcohol related.
my mom would be upset, but it would be one less financial burden on her.
it would make things easier on her, without a doubt.
it could even maybe bring her and my brother closer together with the loss of myself.
thaer might care, yeah, but he'd get over it and move on to someone else soon enough.
someone less needy that would make him much happier than i.
i have no close friends who would mourn.
no one would even come to my wake or funeral.
so i just kept on driving and got onto ninety five.
drove with a dull glaze over my face. thinking nothing.
waiting to see if something happens, but not nervous about it.
this is a perfect example of how i have been thinking lately.
pretty scary maybe to you, but i could care fucking less really.