(no subject)
a small note of carelessness hanging over my head, i pull the car into drive. we are forty five minutes out of here, westward, homebound. i am driving slowly, taking in the moon's fullness and the feeling of being the only car on the freeway. i am ashamed of my mistakes, and angry at those who prompted them, but really it is only myself, and i am at fault. i will listen to your stories only so many times, and i will tolerate you less and less. i wonder at your mind. at the drive's end i am out of the car, stand ing on the platform's flat top with thousands of people below me, rising and falling with the waves.