Nach Heart
The whole situation is weird in the general, but cleaning out my car has been the worst so far. My dad drove me and there's always something comforting when someone knows exactly where to go and what to do when they arrive. In identical fervor we spent too long collecting pens and jewelry and loose change in the crack between the dashboard and the windshield. But that's love I think anyway when you go at things blindly with knives and paperclips trying to get that $1.43 and an earring I had in my mind buried a month ago.
Digging in car seats and finding things I lost and thought were gone forever was something I had planned on doing eventually, I swear. It's mostly that I could have lived in my minivan for longer than I should ever consider again, but it was basically a smaller version of my apartment. My second home with wheels.
And also pretty much where all the best shit went down from the time I was 15 to a few days ago.
Irony or whatthefuckever that where they towed my car was where I once took pictures for my Advanced Darkroom class.
I left them with my spare set of keys on a glow-in-the-dark turtle keychain.