Insanity
My head always runs at about a hundred miles over the speed limit, only to come to a screeching halt at the wrong destinations. No, this isn't it. This wasn't where I was driving to. This doesn't look right. Where to stop for directions? Where to rest? But it all doesn't matter because the right place is hundreds of miles away. I'm standing in the tumbleweeds in a no-man's land of bad conclusions. There are no blinking lights on the horizon, just the hollow sound of wind and night air. The telephone poles hint that there is civilization somewhere, where normal people rest their heads after a long, fulfilling day. And they think normal thoughts as they amble about their normal lives. When they run out of milk they run to the convenience store at the corner. Their kids daydream of baseball cards and comic books and one day will have kids of their own. And the news man bears a cheshire cat's smile that stays with you long after the tv set is turned off. The neighborhood watch serves as a social club, and the church bell rings every sunday at 9 a.m. sharp.
But that world somewhere over the canyons and road signs I passed doesn't seem much better than the cold air whispering past my ears and the scattered bad memories I left in the dust. Maybe that place over the valley isn't any different. Maybe I was meant to stand outside in the cold for while and just listen. Pause. Breath. Maybe this road never leads to that city. Maybe this road leads to another road, which leads to another. But those are the thoughts that keep me awake. And the drive is a long one.
I turn the key in the ignition. The silence breaks and my thoughts go screaming down the desert road, breaking the sound barrier. One day this car will stop to rest. One day I'll know where the road is going. But right now it's driving madly through the dark, the headlights my lamp in the darkness and the fumes of nicotine my breath. One day though...
But that world somewhere over the canyons and road signs I passed doesn't seem much better than the cold air whispering past my ears and the scattered bad memories I left in the dust. Maybe that place over the valley isn't any different. Maybe I was meant to stand outside in the cold for while and just listen. Pause. Breath. Maybe this road never leads to that city. Maybe this road leads to another road, which leads to another. But those are the thoughts that keep me awake. And the drive is a long one.
I turn the key in the ignition. The silence breaks and my thoughts go screaming down the desert road, breaking the sound barrier. One day this car will stop to rest. One day I'll know where the road is going. But right now it's driving madly through the dark, the headlights my lamp in the darkness and the fumes of nicotine my breath. One day though...