(no subject)
This is a large city, bisected by interstates and highways and expressways. I drive on them every day, whether going to and from work, seeing a friend, or going out to eat. Sometimes I like to just drive across the city and think about things. But, for me, driving in this city can be terrifying. Many of these highways and expressways are enclosed on both sides by concrete medians, and have no margins between the lanes and these medians. Very few of the exits and on-ramps have any kind of merging lane. Driving onto them you just run straight into the high-speed traffic flow and hope that no one smashes into you as you do so. Sometimes there is a margin and there will be large blocks of cement randomly set in the middle of it. This causes a staggering number of car accidents throughout the city, which I always hear about on the radio.
But I don't listen to the radio very much. I usually listen to a CD or I listen to the sound of the air rushing past my car and the wheels speeding across the asphalt at ninety miles per hour. I drive and I know that within the next moment or a moment in the very near future I'm going to smash into something. I know that I'm going to blink and find myself crashing head-on into one of the concrete medians or the railing of a bridge. And I feel it happening during every moment of the drive. Every second I feel a new impact just a second away. I feel the impact. It's like being hit by a bolt of lightning and a brick wall at once. It's like being hit in the back with a baseball bat. I feel the blinding flash, the shock, numbing and nullifying all of my senses for a moment. And in that flash I imagine in slow motion as the gears and rods of the transmission are smashing through my legs, the steering column is crushing into my chest, and the windshield is slamming against my skull and tearing my face and scalp apart. Or I'm thrown into the dashboard and windshield and I feel my limbs and back and neck snapping. The shock diminishes and I find myself broken and fading. It only happens when I'm driving alone, and sometimes my mind will be on other things. But very often this is what I think about and feel when I drive in this city. I feel it in every meter of every mile. I can smell the first hints if the alkaline scent that bursts throughout the sinuses at the moment of impact, and I know as I imagine all of the bones in my body being shattered that at any second it will happen for real. When I'm driving I know exactly how I'm going to die and I know that it's going to be very soon.
But then I exit the freeway and I drive down the relatively quiet road towards my home, with grassy fields on both sides of me. The terror dissipates and I completely forget it and start thinking about people that I'd like to talk to or how I'd like to take a nap when I walk through my apartment door.
But I don't listen to the radio very much. I usually listen to a CD or I listen to the sound of the air rushing past my car and the wheels speeding across the asphalt at ninety miles per hour. I drive and I know that within the next moment or a moment in the very near future I'm going to smash into something. I know that I'm going to blink and find myself crashing head-on into one of the concrete medians or the railing of a bridge. And I feel it happening during every moment of the drive. Every second I feel a new impact just a second away. I feel the impact. It's like being hit by a bolt of lightning and a brick wall at once. It's like being hit in the back with a baseball bat. I feel the blinding flash, the shock, numbing and nullifying all of my senses for a moment. And in that flash I imagine in slow motion as the gears and rods of the transmission are smashing through my legs, the steering column is crushing into my chest, and the windshield is slamming against my skull and tearing my face and scalp apart. Or I'm thrown into the dashboard and windshield and I feel my limbs and back and neck snapping. The shock diminishes and I find myself broken and fading. It only happens when I'm driving alone, and sometimes my mind will be on other things. But very often this is what I think about and feel when I drive in this city. I feel it in every meter of every mile. I can smell the first hints if the alkaline scent that bursts throughout the sinuses at the moment of impact, and I know as I imagine all of the bones in my body being shattered that at any second it will happen for real. When I'm driving I know exactly how I'm going to die and I know that it's going to be very soon.
But then I exit the freeway and I drive down the relatively quiet road towards my home, with grassy fields on both sides of me. The terror dissipates and I completely forget it and start thinking about people that I'd like to talk to or how I'd like to take a nap when I walk through my apartment door.